


How Low Can You Go?

by br0jangles, Nuhmarika



Series: How Low Can You Go? [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black DirkKat, Choking, Cock Warming, Creampies, Dirty Talk, Frotting, Hair-pulling, Humiliation kink, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Mutually Dubious Consent, Nook Eating, Nookworms, Overstimulation, Pain Kink, Pale DirkDave, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Red DaveKat - Freeform, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia, Sounding, Violent Sex, its pretty much... not a coffee shop au, like hella dirty talk, pale sex, porn episodes, romance kink, seriously its all just different porn scenes with brick-to-the-face moments of feelings, slice of life?, theres a threesome so also..., this started out as a cofffee shop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 174,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22235590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0jangles/pseuds/br0jangles, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuhmarika/pseuds/Nuhmarika
Summary: This is just a bunch of porn with like, some plot in between. Chapter titles have ships in them.Dirk <3< KarkatKarkat <3 DaveDave <> Dirk
Relationships: Dave Strider/Dirk Strider, Dave Strider/Dirk Strider/Karkat Vantas, Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Dirk Strider/Karkat Vantas
Series: How Low Can You Go? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722253
Comments: 45
Kudos: 213





	1. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk bothers Karkat at work.

This is going to be the most fun Dirk has had in ages. 

Karkat, Dave's bestie and confidanté (which, rude; he used to be before this dumbass), works as a barista. How fucking hilarious is that? The guy's got no chill. How he still has his job is miraculous. 

There's probably a reason Karkat wants to be an author; less people-pleasing. (Dirk can appreciate that well enough.) 

Honestly? This is going to help him. Help him realize being a barista is just straight up _not_ for a grump like him. Also, seeing Karkat seething and gritting his teeth while trying to keep polite is going to be... Yeah. His explosive temper is fun and maybe possibly kind of hot. Maybe Dirk wants to see how far he can push him, how he'll react. 

Ahem. You know. A funny prank. John would be proud. 

When he's outside the shop, he makes sure Karkat is the one getting the orders and sends in a mobile order: 

_Grande  
_ _Caramel Macchiato  
_ _Soy Milk  
_ _Double  
_ _Extra cream_  
 _Extra hot  
_ for _Hot Stuff_ ;)

Karkat is thoroughly in his zone. He's on hot drinks today; a place where he absolutely thrives. Minimal customer contact, peak breakfast rush, drink tickets hanging off the printer down to the goddamn floor.

He's focused, knocking out drink after drink, and it only throws him off a little to see the stupid ass ticket that's next in his queue.

 _Grande Caramel Macchiato_ \-- great.

 _Double_....... obviously, that's what it fucking comes with, two shots.

 _Soy milk?_ Fine. _Extra hot soy milk?_ Sure, Karkat will burn the fuck out of that milk, whatever you say dude.

With.... _cream._ Sure. Whatever. Because a what a cup full of soy milk really needs is some cream on top.

He's too busy grumbling about the stupid ass drink to notice the name at the top of the sticker. So when he's finished, standing at the end of the counter, he shouts out a confident, "Grande caramel macchiato, for--"

And then he stops. He narrows his eyes at the cup in his hand. He looks up to see... Dave's stupid ass older brother, standing there with a smug look on his face.

"Are you for real? Asshole," he says, setting the drink on the counter.

The glee that flutters in Dirk's chest is palpable, but he manages to stamp the grin starting on his face down ruthlessly. This isn't about that. This is about making Karkat absolutely furious. 

"Wow, is that how you treat all customers? The fuck," he scoffs. He keeps his voice calm but clear, wanting more people to hear it just to make Karkat uncomfortable. 

"Uhhhh and yeah, no, this isn't what I wanted. There was no option for 'salt caramel shot', and I wanted that in there. I was gonna tell you, but then you like, totally ignored me, dude."

He leans onto the counter, shrugging. "Also, how'dyou know this is me?" A smirk slips out anyway.

"Salted caramel isn't a flavor, jackoff, you just ask for salt on top,” Karkat says evenly. He’s not going to let Dirk get to him today, he’s _not._

Karkat snatches the drink back, not bothering to tell him that a Salted Caramel Mocha is actually a completely different drink. He doesn't have time for this asinine bullshit, and he's going to lose his temper if Dirk doesn't back off.

He's going to end up yelling, or his boss is going to overhear him cussing at Dirk, and he does _not_ need another write up on his record.

He's a good barista, honestly, he just... has a very short fuse.

After dumping far too much sea salt on top of Dirk's drink, he shoves the cup back into the guys hands and crosses his arms.

"I know it's for you, because you're the only one in here with his head so far up his ass that he would call himself _hot._ What, did you need to hear someone say it? Pathetic."

Is it wrong of Dirk to actually find this hot? Because for real, Karkat talking to him like this is hot. 

Dirk takes the drink, looking at it all suspicious-like. "Degrading talk from a barista? Hot,” he says. At least he's fucking honest.

He takes a sip, then grimaces as much as his cool-dude persona allows him to. "Eugh... This isn't what I wanted at _all_... You put way too much salt into this, Karks, do you even know what you're doing?"

He sets the cup back down, smacking his lips and grimacing a little again. He slides it over towards Karkat slowly, brows pulled together slightly. "I think you should make another one. Please." He's proud of how insincere the 'please' is.

Karkat clenches his teeth together and, as calmly as his rage-trembling hands will allow, takes the drink back. _This fucking motherfucker._ He maintains aggressive eye contact as he dumps the drink out into his sink and chucks the cup in the garbage.

Dirk wants a delicious drink? Karkat will _make him_ a delicious drink. How dare he insult Karkat's work?

He ignores the quickly piling drink tickets, letting his bar buddy handle the brunt of the work, as he meticulously remakes the macchiato.

Exactly 160 degrees. Beautiful microfoam. Perfect little dot of espresso in the top, like all macchiatos are meant to have. Caramel in that signature cross hatch, double circle. Just enough salt to top it off.

He's so focused on making the drink, it's actually cathartic. He almost forgets how angry he is-- almost. Until he looks up and sees Dirk still actually standing there and waiting.

He puts the drink directly into Dirk's hands and crosses his arms again. In a regular, non-yelling voice, he says, "Extra Hot Soy Caramel Macchiato. With Salt. Drink it."

He glares Dirk down, _waiting_ for the fucker to taste it, _daring_ him to say it's not the best macchiato he's ever had.

Dirk is a little mesmerized as he watches Karkat's work; the sure way he prepares the espresso-shot, the way he holds the can of hot milk-alternative. The precision of the cross-hatching; that's actually really cool. 

He's a little glad Karkat loses himself to his work, because honestly he couldn't have come with any scathing remarks if he tried. Who knew Karkat was actually hard-working? Points to him. Damn. 

He takes the cup, careful to brush his fingers against Karkat's, looking down at it, swirling it a little. 

He takes a sip. A considering hum. Smacks his lips. 

"Yeah, it's alright. Can you microwave it though? It want it, like, piping hot." 

Don't lose it, Dirk. Don't you fucking laugh. 

"Oh and I wanted this to go? Sorry, I forgot to mention."

Karkat is _hot._ His face is hot all the way down to his neck with rage. His shoulders go tense, his fingernails dig into his arms, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"YOU--" he starts to shout, but he's quickly cut off by his manager.

"Vantas! Go take a fifteen!"

Karkat is so fucking mad, that for a moment, he doesn't move. He's about a half a second away from reaching over the counter and throttling Dirk with his bare hands. He opens his mouth to spout another fat _Fuck you, Strider,_ but his manager catches him by the arm and physically starts to drag him away.

"I said take a fifteen. Go cool off, or you're going to get sent home."

Humiliation makes Karkat's face even hotter, and he doesn't look at Dirk before storming off to the back room.

He slam dunks his stupid fucking green apron down on the break table and sinks into the chair, covering his face with his hands, muffling curses and woe-is-mes. He only sits there for about two minutes before sighing slinking down in his chair, defeated.

Why does he let that guy get to him? It's _certainly_ not because he gets flustered just looking at him. That would be weak and stupid and very much not true.

He gets back up and starts heading for the restroom, cursing Dirk and Dave and the whole Strider family as he goes.

_Stupid fucking glasses. Stupid hair. Stupid sexy smile-- wait. No. Fuck, wait. UGLY smile. Yeah. Who does that bastard think he is? Coming to Karkat's job and making a fool of him? Asshole. Fucking asshole._

Dirk takes in the absolute rage blooming on Karkat's face, the way his whole body locks up, the way he almost reaches out to pull Dirk in for a brawl (or in his fantasies, for a toothy smooch). 

Fuck, his eyes. That shit looked _dangerous_. Just how he likes it. Too bad the manager was there. But maybe not...? Cause now Karkat is all on his own in the back. Nice. 

He makes sure the manager thinks he's sitting down to enjoy his coffee, properly chagrined by Karkat's anger. (He got the drink complimentary for Karkat's outburst, which is absolutely fucking hilarious).

He sits for about fifteen seconds before he slips into the back, again filled with adrenaline-based giddiness. 

This could go two ways; Karkat would beat the fuck out of him and maul him with fangs and teeth. 

Or??? 

He'd catch Dirk's super obvious hints and fuck his brains out. 

Honestly, both options are acceptable. 

As he slips in and looks around until he sees Karkat heading to the restroom, and feels his chest get tight and _hot_ in anticipation. 

He flashes in front of Karkat, coffee in hand, and takes a demonstrative sip out of it, letting him process that he is in the back here with him. 

"Thanks for the complimentary drink, Karks." Another sip. "Your boss apologized, so I guess we're square now. You don't have to apologize." He lets his smirk out now, absolutely devious. He spreads his legs a little in anticipation; tackle or wall-shove?

Karkat is stopped mid-tantrum by none other than Dirk Strider himself. His eyes blow wide for a second, just a second, before narrowing back down with the same intense fire from before. Only this time, no one is here to _stop him._

He still has half a mind to remember that there are cameras everywhere, even in the back room, but he's already bearing sharp teeth, lip curled back dangerously, fingers curled into tight fists, and _fuck_ he going to punch Dirk in his ugly smug face.

He shoves Dirk into the bathroom, with the full force of his body weight, and he's on him in the next second. Dirk might be taller than him, but that doesn't stop him from shoving the guy face first into the wall. He's got a fist full of Dirk's hair, an arm wrenched behind Dirk's back, sharp nails digging into the soft skin of his wrist. His breath comes out in hot puffs at Dirk's throat, anger mixing with something more primal that only gets worse, now that he's this close to Dirk's body.

"You've got a lot of fucking nerve coming back here, Strider,” he breathes.

" _Ngh_. Ooohh, feisty Kitty,” Dirk laughs. He lets himself feel the hot breath on his sensitive neck, the way he could probably rub his ass apologetically against Karkat's bulge, let Karkat manhandle him until he apologizes sweetly. 

But being pushed face-first against the wall made his shades crack.

And really, where is the fun in losing when he's already winning so fucking hard?

He stomps on Karkats foot, jabbing him in the side with his free arm, easily enough escaping Karkat's grip. He has good form, but when you're already used to brawling with people like John and, god forbid, _Jake_ , you get out of worse positions. 

He almost gently flips Karkat over, locking the bathroom door and pushing Karkat's back firmly against it, his upper arm holding Karkat's neck hostage under it. 

Dirk leans in close, grin wider, teeth showing. Is this what pitch feels like? 

"I'm absolutely shaking in my converse, bro. Boo hoo, I had to make a coffee twice... Hashtag sad face." He leans his face in closer, their noses just barely touching each other. "Whatcha gonna do about it, pipsqueak." 

Karkat shouldn't be shocked by how easily Dirk throws him off, but he's knocked speechless as he's thrown against the door. The arm pressed up against this throat has him scrambling for his bearings, gasping for a breath, and clinging to it like he'll fall if Dirk lets him go.

He’s humiliated, angry, his whole body is hot, and _fuck,_ is this supposed to be turning him on?

Dirk lets off the pressure a little on the arm on Karkat's throat, letting Karkat decide if he wants to do this or nah. It's only fair, right?

Karkat bears his teeth again and sinks his nails into Dirk's arm as Dirk backs off. A small voice in his head is telling him to stop, but now he's smirking, his blood rushing, panting for breath. He squirms under Dirk's weight, staring him down through a shattered sunglass lens. 

"If you're going to throw me around like that, you'd better make it fucking count, Strider. I've only got ten minutes left of my break,” he warns. His hips rock involuntarily at the implications of his own words. That in ten minutes, someone will come looking for him, might _hear_ whatever's happening in the bathroom. "And I'm not you're fucking kitty. I'm not that fucking weak, I can handle you _and_ your stupid big muscle arms."

"-- Oh, you're turned on? Is a lil kitty-cat turned on by being fucking humiliated...?" Dirk prods. His grin deepens, more teeth showing than what is probably attractive. The pain in his arms from Karkat's claws just pokes the fire in him.

Since his shades are fucking useless now, he flips them off his nose and lets them clatter to the floor. He needs his focus elsewhere, and he has plenty glasses extra. 

"How wet's your nook, then? Used to taking a human bulge?" He presses his arm back firmly onto Karkat's windpipe, moving his hand under Karkat's apron and palms his crotch, hitching his hand up and sliding his fingers firmly over the fabric there. 

He does it again, and pecks at Karkat's mouth hard, their teeth clacking together. He can't wait to get inside that plush nook. It's hot how Karkat _lets_ him, even though Dirk has been the most annoying shit he could possibly try to be. 

He feels _powerful_. He might cream early. 

"Use your words, pretty. How do you want me to take you? Like a pretty bitch, maybe...? From behind? Or just like this, so I can see it when you come on my dick?" He keeps palming at Karkat's crotch, eager to rip his pants down.

Ah, _shit._ Was Karkat being that obvious??? He tries to stay mad-- really tries, but Dirk's got a filthy fucking mouth, and he'd be lying if his nook didn't throb just listening to it. Every word burns hotter and coils tighter in the pit of Karkat's stomach.

He's not _pretty._ He's not Dirk's _kitten._ He's not Dirk's _anything,_ and it's unfair how fucking wet it makes him to be talked down on like that.

"You're disgusting," he spits out, but he can't help the short whine it cuts off on when Dirk's fingers shamelessly grope at the front of his pants. He bites his lip so hard, he's sure it'll bleed. He doesn't want to give Dirk the satisfaction, can't let him win, but he's _so horny_ at this point, he almost don't care.

Almost. He's still got quite a bit of fight left in him.

"Why don't you check for yourself, bastard, and suck my fucking shame globes while you're down there."

_It is so totally turning him on,_ Dirk thinks. _Holy shit, look at this cute ass bottom, trying desperately not to let it show._ That's so cute. Oh god. Nah, this ain't any kind of pitch. Just his usual kink. 

"That's so sweet... I love it when they fight back. Makes it less boring. How about you keep on swatting at me the way you are while I fuck your nook till you cry out loud enough for the other customers to hear, hmm??" 

He fumbles a little with Karkat's zipper, but not enough for Karkat to really tease him. He tugs them down firmly, maybe a little desperately, his own cock throbbing needily. "Don't have enough time to make you cry from me sucking your shame globes too good. We'll save that for the next time I fucking _own_ you." 

Once Karkat's pants are pooled around his ankles, he's moves one of Karkat's legs out to give him more room, encouraging him to wrap it around his waist. Seems like this softie wants it missionary. Fucking adorbs. 

"Do you enjoy being seen right through?? Is that why you're so fucking obvious?" he asks, as he slips two fingers into Karkat's nook without preamble. He curls them up in the way the internet said would feel real good. 

"Never mind.. Sshhhh, Kitty, do you want your boss to hear you moan like the little slut you are...?" He leans in to suckle on Karkat's neck, trying to find that point where trolls go all soft and pliant.

"God, just shut the fuck up," Karkat says. He's torn between loving and hating the filth spewing from Dirk's mouth. He can't really focus on it anyway, as he's being easily manhandled around. It _does something_ to him that he doesn't want to think about, that Dirk can just... _have_ him. Any way he wants. Move him around the way he sees fit and take what he wants.

Fuck.

A pathetic, high chirp escapes him like a gasp as Dirk curls his fingers inside him. More slick comes in a short throb, nook opening up and accommodating to the new shape of the fingers stuffed inside it.

Vaguely, he's mad that he's going to have to clean the fucking bathroom after Dirk leaves, but somehow it only serves to send another shiver up his spine. Being thoroughly fucked and used and left in a puddle of his own genetic material. 

Both of his legs hug tight around Dirk's hips, grinding into his hand for more. "Are you going to fuck me or just keep running your mouth about it?" he asks, breath heavy, eyes cloudy. His hands cling to any part of Dirk that he can reach, needing something to stay grounded to.

_Listen to him, all choked up and pleading..._ Idly, while Dirk slips a third finger in to see if Karkat can take him, he wonders if Karkat would beg him to fuck him if he teased and degraded him enough. 

An experiment for another time. 

"You're so hungry for it, you thirsty little bitch..." He thrusts his fingers into him a couple times, a small shiver running down his spine at Karkat's needy little chirp. Fuck yeah. 

_Fuck yeah_. 

"I bet you're like, one thrust of my cock away from coming all over this floor, aren't you. I haven't even touched your bulge. hahh." 

To fuck with cool- he needs his dick in Karkat _yesterday_. He pulls down his slacks and boxers in one quick pull, freeing his member with a heavy bob. It's gonna look great going into the troll, that's for sure. 

"And you know what...?" he asks. He lines his dick up, slicking his head up by rubbing it against Karkat's slit, pushing him more firmly against the door, other hand clamping onto Karkat's hip. "I'm not gonna. You're gonna come without touching your bulge at all, cause that how much you're gonna love me _fucking_ you." 

With that, he thrusts inside Karkat in one, swift, hard thrust. He pulls out a little. Then slams himself back in, feeling the hot plushness of the nook squeezing around him. With a low groan, he starts thrusting, his other hand going up to Karkat's hair, fisting the thick mane firmly, wrenching his head back.

Karkat doesn't even fight it anymore. He's dangerously close to starting to _mewl,_ and he doesn't need Dirk throwing the kitten thing in his face for it. He's going to be so humiliated later on-- hell, he's humiliated _now,_ but they're already here, they both want it, there's no reason to pretend he doesn't.

He trembles and bites his lip, trying not to make a sound as Dirk fingers him, fucks up into him with his surprisingly thick cock.

"God, _f-uckk_ ," he lets his neck snap back as Dirk tugs his hair. It's _good,_ so deeply satisfying in releasing the pent up rage from the cafe. It scratches his itch perfectly, and he can't fucking stand it. Can't stand that it's _Dirk._

He digs his nails into Dirk's shoulders, dragging them across fabric, cutting into skin. Dirk's cock hits him so fucking deep, with the way his legs cling around Dirk's hips, and it's starting to make him dizzy. Dirk wasn't wrong when he accused Karkat of being close, of being _easy._ Maybe he is,

_Maybe he is._

"More," he demands, brokenly, a quiet hiss. "Make me cum, you useless sack of shit."

"Fuck yeah, you want more... Needy whore..." Dirk says. He moans at the pain and adjusts his position a little so he's more under Karkat, getting more leverage to pound into him, closing his mouth and moaning through his nose; he's starting to get close, but fuck-- who can blame him, with a cute lil' troll literally bouncing on his dick, begging him for more? 

He leans in and nips at the skin of Karkat's throat none too gently, the grunts from his hard thrusting soft and hot against it. He ups the pace at Karkat's words, feeling his muscles burn good. 

"Can feel you sucking me in, Karkat, gonna make you come all over your own trousers and apron, gonna make you cry as I keep fucking into you. How many times can your nook come hmm...? No shh, I don't want you to tell me, I'll know when I find out..." 

As much as he _loves_ the way Karkat tries holding back little mewls, it would actually be bad if anyone found them like this, so he takes his hand out of Karkat's hair, grips Karkat's jaw and digs his fingers in so Karkat has to open his mouth or feel the pain, and deep-kisses him as filthily as he's able to. 

He moans and makes Karkat swallow it, swirling their tongues together heavily and letting drool spill between them as he keeps pumping, going harder and harder- Karkat is close, he can _feel_ it, can _feel_ him squirm ineffectively against him, pleadingly so. 

This is not going to be the last time he fucks Dave's best buddy.

Karkat's whines melt into little chirps and moans. He's trying to stay quiet, but he just can't help it anymore. He's so close, so lost in the rough, _sweet_ way Dirk's cock pounds in and out of him.

He drowns in Dirk's moans, loving the ache in his jaw as it's forced open. He nearly chokes around Dirk's tongue, his own noises piling up and getting stuck in his throat. He wants to cum so badly, he could cry.

_He can't cry, goddamn it, don't--_

He rips one claw away from Dirk to tangle his fingers with his bulge. It wraps eagerly, desperately around his wrist and that's all it takes for Karkat to fucking lose it. He cums so hard that he stops breathing, red material spilling around him, wracking him to his very core. His nook spasms and clenches around Dirk's cock, doing everything it can to keep him inside, hold him there, milk him for everything he's worth.

"Fuck, Dirk, I'm--" he gives a full body shudder, his orgasm still wracking him in waves. " _Fuck..._ "

The euphoria of _winning_ rushes through Dirk, hot like lava and pooling in his gut; for a moment he's a little afraid he won't even be able to hold Karkat up once he comes, but seeing Karkat's fucked out expression is enough to push him even harder against the door. 

He batters his hips into Karkat's, chasing his own pleasure and knowing it's causing Karkat to feel the sweet torture of _too much_. He feels red seeping into his sweatpants, and congratulates himself dazedly to have worn black sweats. 

"Couldn' keep your- hmm- fucking hands to yourself, Kitty..?" He quickly shifts his grip on Karkat's jaw to cover his mouth. "Getting so loud, you sound like a fucking slut. Not that I'm surprised once you got a taste of my dick." 

He rolls his hips, another little trick he's heard about online and is eager to try, rolling them until he sees Karkat jerk hard. "Yeah, how about that, bitch..? I'm not let- _mmm_ letting you go until I come in you, so -- fuck- _take it_." His voice is low and a little raspy, shaking in rhythm with the short, rolling slams of his hips. 

Seeing the way Karkat squeezes his eyes shut and blinks quickly makes him _ache_ in the best way- he did that. He messed him up like this... "How about you cry for me, baby...? All soaking in your own fucking juices, fuck, I've never seen anyone wear their own genetic material as well as --.. you-.." Fuuuck he really wants to see Karkat cry, see him writhe and struggle against the slowly aching pain as he prolongs his orgasm.

"God-- fuuucking _d amnit,_ " Karkat whines, but it's muffled under Dirk's hand. His thighs squeeze hard around Dirk's hips and he arches back into the door.

His orgasm was good, so fucking good, but he never gets a chance to wind down off of it. Dirk is relentless, driving into him harder than ever, impossibly deeper than before. His eyes are screwed shut tight, his body wound tight like a bow. His bulge thrashes and wraps desperately around his fingers, unable to settle down through the onslaught of overwhelming pleasure.

"Don't--" Karkat starts, but there's a steady noise brewing in his chest that slurs his words. "D-don't... have tim e..." he tries to say. They _really_ don't have time for this, someone is going to come looking for Karkat any second now.

But he can't bring himself to care. He's well on his way to his second orgasm, with the way Dirk keeps rolling his hips up into him, fucking him like he doesn't care who hears them. 

His body pulls tight again, tense with the ache of his next orgasm oncoming. "G-gonna... _Fuuuuuuc k, you b astard, I'm--_ "

"Yeah-- _yeah_ , you gonna come a-- _fuck_ !" Shit that gets Dirk so close, knowing that Karkat is going to come again; Dirk Strider, the _best_ fucker that ever was-...

It only encourages him to go harder, one hand against Karkat's mouth, the other arm wrapping around Karkat's waist a little to help fuck Karkat down against him harder, slowly perfecting that little roll until Karkat is twitching with every thrust. 

"You desperate little whore- fuck you're so gorgeous, _fuck_... gonna come inside you so- hard, holy shit-" He's not even sure what he's saying at this point, he just needs to feel Karkat's nook flutter desperately around him again, sucking him in and begging for come-- 

He groans deeply, leaning forwards and clamping his teeth over the joining between Karkat's neck and shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut and spending all his muscle-coordination to stay upright and fuck Karkat in short, hard bursts, never more than a third of his member outside that delicious nook.

Karkat wants to fucking smack Dirk. The cocky bastard doesn't deserve to have this much of Karkat, it's fucking embarrassing. He digs into Dirk's back again with the nails of his free hand, his entire body pulling taught as his second orgasm rips through him.

Broken moans and chirps fall mutedly under Dirk's palm, and he finds himself biting down on it to keep himself together. Every roll and thrust of Dirk inside him forces another wave of pleasure through him, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep them from watering.

Slowly, he starts to go lax in Dirk's hold. His energy drains from him rapidly, a dull, throbbing pleasure deep inside the only thing keeping him upright. Well, that and Dirk's body pressed up against him.

His legs stay wrapped weakly around Dirk's hips, letting the man continue to abuse his insides, even as he's been thoroughly spent. He's sore, and tired, and he's so fucked if he thinks he's going to be able to get back to work after this.

"Ghhhhhh--" As Dirk feels Karkat climax again, he finally lets himself go, digging his teeth in harder before letting his teeth unclench from the bend of Karkat's neck.

"There you go baby, ahhhhfuck there you, that's so-... _fuck_ ..." Dirk’s voice is more of a murmur now, still shaky as he presses into Karkat desperately, his motions becoming irregular and more frantic. "Gonna-- come inside you Karkat, gonn- _mmm_ fuck my come into you, shit, you came twice that's so hot-..." 

He rips away his bitten hand from Karkat's mouth, probably leaving jagged puncture-wounds but far beyond caring, pressing his lips against Karkat's as he comes; heat floods into Karkat at the same time as Dirk slurps his tongue wetly into his mouth. 

The kiss is surprisingly gentle, hands starting to stroke at Karkat as if to tell him good job; because holy shit _good job_ . It was so hot, he feels _so great_ , dopamine surging in him. 

Once he starts coming down from his immediate high, he spills soft words of praise into Karkat's mouth, mouth running on auto-pilot; "Fuck that was so hot, you were so good taking it, I loved how you almost cried kitty you took my dick _so_ good, you're _so_ good, shoosh..." 

He tries to let Karkat down to stand on his own feet, but moves him over to the toilet seat instead, his foot stepping onto the soaked material of Karkat's discarded pants. 

...Huh. Oh, reality is slowly setting in. 

And it's even _better_. A smirk slowly starts on Dirk’s lips, though he still leans down to give Karkat another deep, slow kiss.

The feeling of human material is always so... thick and sticky any gross. It has a way of making Karkat feel even filthier than he already did, fucking next to the load gaper at his job with a man he hates.

He really... _really_ hates Dirk right now. The kiss really seals in in for him, deep and dirty and intermixed with soft praises and... wait, praises? The spades in his eyes flicker and fuzz as Dirk sets him down and kisses him again. It's gentle and comforting and _confusing_ and Karkat is pulled into it for a long moment before he's pushing Dirk off of him.

He's steady enough to sit there on his own, but still weak and fucked out of his mind. He frowns and looks away from Dirk. 

"Don't fucking shoosh me right now, that's... Not what you should be doing." A pause, a glare in Dirks direction. "What the hell are you even trying to do? Aren't you done with me now? The game is over, you won, so fuck off."

Dirk blinks, looking down to Karkat, letting that process through his slightly slower-working than usual brain.

Ooooh, right. Spades. Aftercare kind of.. Isn't a thing then, he supposes? 

Well. Less work for him, then. 

He shrugs easily, letting his smirk widen more. "You were so cute all fucked and soft and pliant. How the fuck could I not take advantage." He locks his knees together, forcing himself to not lean against the wall; weakness right there. 

"Guess I'll see you around, Kitty. Enjoy the clean-up." He gives Karkat a cuff over a horn, unlocking the door. 

"Ohh, and..." He picks up the coffee he left right outside the door, taking a sip. 

He grimaces openly. 

"This drink is cold? You had one fucking job dude." 

He grins, then shuts the door before Karkat can say anything.

Karkat is shocked when Dirk actually leaves. So shocked, that the comment about the macchiato doesn't even phase him.

That asshole really just fucked and dumped him, didn't he?? Karkat doesn't have the energy to be as pissed off as he properly should be, but he _is_ mad. Just because he told Dirk to fuck off, doesn't mean he meant it. He just didn't want Dirk getting all mushy on him when he _knows_ that he doesn't mean it. He's spent enough time around the Strider household to be convinced that Dirk doesn't even _have_ feelings.

Way to go, Karkat, catching feelings for a guy without a soul.


	2. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk comes back for more, and Karkat can't say no.

A week goes by, and Karkat avoids Dirk like the plague. He keeps to the back room of the coffee shop. He stays off his phone. He makes Dave come to  _ his _ place, so he doesn't have to go to Dave's. 

But today, Dave is insistent that Karkat has to come over. Something about some new comic issue he has at home, or some other shit Karkat doesn't really care about. Comics are stupid, but he'll listen to Dave ramble on about it, if that's what he wants. He'd do just about anything Dave asked him to do, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

So there they are, sitting on the floor in front of Dave's living room couch, looking down at the pages of some stupid gamer bullshit. And Karkat is fine, he is, Dirk isn't even here. There's absolutely nothing to be worried about.

Until he is, of course. 

Dirk may have inceptioned the idea that Karkat is totally missing out on quality gaming-consoles into Dave's brain. He may have insinuated that dude, has Karkat even read the newest GameBro? 

See, Dirk is having some trouble. Not in a bad way, really, cause he's chill. But it seems like - oh yeah, that's better,  _ Karkat _ is dealing with some unforeseen shit. 

Cause, okay, if Karkat wasn't into Dirk like that, fine. He could just tell him so. 

But people have been  _ commenting _ that Karkat is being weird. And, like. Okay, specifically Dave has been fucking pouting about it, and that just won't  _ roll _ .

So he enters, silent as always, into the livingroom. Dave gives him the usual micro-nod, which he returns respectfully. 

Then he looks to Karkat. Raises one of his brows. Lowers his shades a little and squints his eyes. Glances to the bathroom and back. Pushes his shades back up. 

And goes. To the bathroom. 

He won't stand for this whimpy-ass pussyfooting around shit.

Karkat  _ feels _ Dirk standing there, before he ever turns to see him. It makes his blood run cold and his heart start to race. It pisses him off, that he's reacting to the guy at all. He doesn't fucking care, he shouldn't be feeling anything at all.

And he's with  _ Dave _ right now, and Dave is his priority. Some fleeting black crush will never be as important as Dave is, and...

And then Dirk nods at him. And his eyes flick in the direction of the bathroom.

The bathroom? Really? Bastard can't even try to get him into a real bed this time? Pathetic.

It's pathetic and he's not doing it.

He manages to sit there for some indiscernible amount of time after Dirk disappears, antsy, not listening to a goddamn thing Dave is saying. His ears are hot and he can hear his heart beating and he keeps  _ looking _ over at the bathroom door.

Fuck. Fucking-- stupid pathetic bullshit. He can not  _ believe, _ he is even considering it.

Before he can stop himself, though, he can hear his own voice saying, "I'll be right back, Dave. I have to go to the bathroom."

And then he's standing. And then he's walking. And then he's quietly shutting the bathroom door behind himself.

He crosses his arms, clearly on the defense, and leans back against it. "What the fuck do you want?"

"First of all, calm your whole ass down. The bathroom has thick walls, but not Karkat-yelling-thick-walls." Dirk locks the door behind Karkat decisively, then looms over him. The shades are on firmly, a slight tension to his lip. 

"So, what the fuck?" He crosses his arms as well, then sighs and lets them hang instead; crossing them means you're defensive, and Striders are not defensive. They're  _ offensive _ . In every sense of the word. 

"I get that you just wanted the tango once, we all need that dickin' once in a while that's cool and all but now you've gone ahead and pulled away from society like a fucking cretin and it's making people question why you don't even serve coffee in the front anymore, and by people I mean Dave, so you know he's onto you." 

... 

Smooth. 

"So literally what the fuck did I do to make you all weird? You told me to go, I went. Was aftercare like, some kind of fucking taboo?? Give me some slack dude, I don't scour troll-wikipedia in my spare time." 

Okay, he's a little defensive. 

"Whatever, don't answer any of that. You wanna fuck?"

Karkat raises an eyebrow as Dirk rambles at him. Is Dirk... hurt? He's certainly acting like he's hurt. But Dirk doesn't have feelings???

Wow, how did he manage to make Karkat feel like the bad guy?

Aaaaand then Dirk finishes on very eloquent  _ Wanna Fuck? _ and Karkat is back to glaring daggers at the guy.

"You really don't know what you did wrong?" Karkat asks. "Is that a fucking joke?"

His arms uncross, and his hands land on his hips. "You come onto me while I'm at work-- I repeat,  _ while I'm at work. _ Where I go to make money. To live. And you put my job at risk. Are you fucking following me, yet? And then you made me--" he has to stop for a second, sucking in a breath. What does he want to say? That Dirk made him feel things? No fucking way. Dirk doesn't need to know  _ any _ of that.

He settles on the slightly less risky admission. "You fucked me like I  _ belonged _ to you, and then  _ left me there to clean it up. _ I don't know what kind of sick game you were trying to play, but I'm not playing. It's not a fucking game for me. I'm not that desperate."

As Karkat rants, Dirks eyebrows slowly climb. Okay, what? 

"Okay first of all, you did not disagree to anything we did. I came on to you, yeah, thanks captain fucking obvious. But I gave you  _ plenty _ time to tell me to fuck off, but you  _ begged _ me to fuck you harder. So. No, you don't get to be mad about that." 

Breathe, Strider, damn. 

"And you told me to fuck off after I - and listen closely-  _ made you come twice _ . Sure, I was being-" Affectionate? Sweet? Fucking weak as shit, not worthy of any kind of goddamn last name??? "Uhh,  _ red _ or whatever afterwards, but I stopped when you asked me to and got the fuck out when you asked me to." 

He crosses his arms now, defensive be damned. "And  _ last _ of all, I never said anything about any kind of fucking game. But I fucking won it and we both know it." 

He shrugs, fake nonchalantly. "So do you wanna fuck or nah? Cause the biggest lie in your little spiel was that you're not desperate."

Fighting like this is sparking up those black flames again, and Karkat's starting to feel it in the pit of his stomach. They haven't even tried to touch each other yet, and he's already getting hot over it.

And then, Dirk says  _ red _ and Karkat's feelings come screeching to a halt. He has to take a moment, to try and dissect that Dirk said he was  _ acting _ red and not  _ feeling _ red. Dirk Probably doesn't even fucking know what red means, the ignorant prick.

His panic starts to fade as Dirk asks him again, if he wants to fuck.

He narrows his eyes at Dirk, hands still perched on his hips, foot dangerously close to tapping with his irritation. He considers what he wants very carefully before speaking again.

"I don't want to let you fuck me again. I hate you, and you don't deserve to get anything out of it." Slowly, a smirk starts to split his cheeks. "I'll let you eat me out, though."

He'll never admit to having felt the slightest bit nervous about being rejected (twice), but the more Karkat talks, the more Dirk realizes this must have been a miscommunication. 

Cause man, Karkat is  _ all over him _ . Look at that cute fucking smile. Like he can even try to look intimidating... 

"Oh, you think I won't get anything out of it?" He takes a step forward, into Karkat's personal space. "What kind of guy do you take me for, Kitty? I would  _ love _ to make you come from my tongue alone." 

He leans in and down, licking Karkat's lower lip slowly, watching Karkat's eyes through his shades, seeing how they dilate deliciously. 

"Will you be able to not grab your bulge like a fucking grub this time though...? If I remember correctly, you couldn't fucking help yourself." He pushes Karkat over to the sink, putting away the most essential things and brushing the rest onto the floor. Perfect for Karkat to come in. 

He continues licking and nipping a little at Karkat's lower lip, eyebrow raised as he dips his finger into the hem of his trousers.

At this point, Karkat has already said yes, but he still hesitates to participate beyond letting Dirk manhandle him onto the sink. Last time, Dirk's kisses only served to make him angry, but this time... the little licks and bites actually calm his nerves a little.

"I was never going to cum, if I didn't touch myself. You clearly don't know how trolls get off, if you thought your stupid looking meat stick was enough to do it."

He catches Dirk's lip between his teeth and  _ tugs _ him closer, pulling him up between his legs to wrap his arms around Dirk's neck. Once he has him, he kisses him roughly and rolls his hips into Dirk's hand, urging him to hurry up and get his pants off already.

"Ahm-" Dirk moans against Karkat's mouth, something in his stomach unclenching. Yeah.  _ Yeah _ . This is what it's about. His hands fumble down to pop open Karkat's pants and shove them down, lifting him bodily off the sink and yanking the offending article of clothing off; same with the underwear. 

"Mm-" He pulls away from the kiss, murmuring hotly into Karkat's ear, "The way I remember, you almost cried because you were so desperate to come.. Does that mean I can edge you forever as long I fuck your sweet lil' nook, Kitten..? Now that would  _ really _ make you cry..." 

He slides an arm around Karkat, pulling their chests together, rolling their hips together, a hand raking through karkat's hair, then fisting it and giving it a small tug. "That why you want me to eat you out? Cause you love being edged...? What a fucking pervert."

The rough of Dirk's pants scrapes between Karkat's legs as he grinds between them. It should be unpleasant, should probably hurt, but something about it is exactly perfect to the way Dirk is talking to him.

And Karkat's lips press into a firm line because... he can't say Dirk is  _ wrong. _ He probably would have been reduced to an incoherent, crying mess if he didn't get to finish himself off when he did. 

But he was at  _ work. _ They didn't have time for all that extra sexy bullshit at the time. Now, though... His bulge starts to unfurl at just the thought of it. The idea of Dirk going down on him,  _ staying _ down on him for hours at a time... He squirms in Dirk's hold, trying to grind down on him again, getting wetter by the second.

The fist in his hair pulls a moan from his chest. He lets his head fall back, exposing himself for Dirk. He swallows around the lump in his throat and says, "If you think I'm going to deny it... you're wrong. Eat me until you fucking drown, you son of a bitch."

"Mm..." Dirk grins, holding Karkat's head back with the first in his hair, even tugging it slightly more back to really make Karkat display all of his throat. He bites down where he did last time, where he can just barely see the mark he left. 

He bites down  _ hard _ , rolling his hips teasingly into Karkat's, and starts to suck. His free hand slides up into Karkat's sweater, finding a grubscar and stroking at it, seeing if it makes him react some way. Pinching the skin there, around it, stroking over it, scraping it with a nail- what makes this little grub tick hmm..?? 

Once he's sure the mark is going to be satisfyingly dark and hard to deny, he lets go with a wet pop, showering the rest of Karkat's neck in small nips, aiming to make Karkat twitch and whine. 

"Here's the thing, Kitty." He leans down, getting a good eyeful of Karkat's swollen slit and the glistening red material. He pins the bulge against Karkat's abdomen with a thumb. "I've always been a really good swimmer." 

He exhales hotly against Karkat's nook, then gives it a long, explorative lick. The taste of Karkat is tangy and weird, and it tastes like fucking  _ victory _ . Which we all know, Dirk fucking loves.

"Now be a good boy and spread your legs real nice and wide for me."

Karkat sighs and lets himself melt into the attack on his neck. It hurts, but it’s good, it’s grounding. It calms his nerves and leaves him properly compliant as Dirk continues to touch him.

He hums and stays quiet while Dirk pushes up his sweater, feeling along his glub scars. It’s nice, a slow build of pleasure as opposed to the hot mess that happened in the coffee shop bathroom.

So nice, in fact, that it comes as a complete shock when suddenly his bulge is  _ pinned _ up to his stomach. Hot flashes of humiliation roll over him and make him grit his teeth. He’s right back to thinking,  _ bastard bastard bastard hate that fucking-- _

And then Dirks tongue is on him and has him pitching his hips forward, a bitter moan spilling from his lips. He does as he’s told, spreading his legs nice and easy, and it’s fucking  _ disgraceful.  _ He’s mortified by how well he obeys, and he can only hope that Dirk won’t mention it.

He’s got one hand braced back against the sink, and the other carded into Dirk’s perfectly styled hair. It’s stiff with product, and it crunches under his fingers as he clings to it.

Dirk chuckles, the same kind of excitement he felt that day starting to bubble in him- just look at him. "There you go, look at how easy you are for me, Kitty..." He's  _ really _ starting to like that nickname for him. "So good..." he says, the grin is stuck to his face. 

With forced casualness he takes off his glasses, grabbing the stool he and Dave have had since Dave was a kiddo, and leans his knee on it. Gives him better leverage. He grunts, displeased when he feels his hair being crunched, but lets Karkat hold onto him. "It's okay baby, you just leave everything to me..." he coos to him, that condescending grin making his cheeks hurt. 

He keeps pinning the bulge with one hand, not wanting to have it flounder all over his face while he goes down. He firms the grip on the hand on his waist, his fingers rubbing against the grubscars above and below the grip he has. 

"Ffffuck yeah.." He leans in, mouth open wide, locking eyes with Karkat as he sticks his tongue out as long as he can, wriggling it against the folds of his nook teasingly with a hard exhale. 

Until he drowns, his ass. He's pretty sure once he gets going, he won't ever want to stop.

“You talk too fucking much,” Karkat hisses. Honestly, it’s growing on him, but he will never let Dirk know it. The praises swirl together with the insults. The filthy, degrading things he says. The…  _ Kitty. _ As offended as he is by it, it settles in his stomach like hot rocks and keep him waiting for more.

_ Waiting, _ because Dirk doesn’t stop talking long enough to actually get the fuck on with it.

The caress of his grubscars keeps him subdued, though. It lulls him down, leaves him docil and willing. He hates to admit it, but maybe Dirk does know what he’s doing.

Having his bulge pinned out of the way was  _ definitely  _ not something he expected, but probably a smart move. It would have ended up squirming and stuffing itself down Dirks throat-- which Karkat would have  _ loved _ to experience… but he would cum too fast. No, they both want this to last longer than that.

He grips Dirk’s hair harder when his tongue finally meets skin again. It’s not enough, barely anything, and he shoots Dirk a disgusted frown. He keeps his hips still, hoping to get the point across that he’s just not feeling it yet.

“If you’re going to brag about wrecking me, then fucking wreck me. I’m waiting.”

A hot thrill runs through Dirk seeing Karkat over him like this, the grip on his hair firm. For a moment he imagines again how this would be if he let Karkat lead; desperately licking and slurping and letting Karkat's disgusted gaze down at him really  _ get _ to him. 

It would be hot. Fuck, it would be hot. Maybe, once in the future, he'll let him. 

It's a fun little flash-fantasy. Karkat probably wants it, at least a little. But what Karkat  _ really _ wants, is to be  _ wrecked _ . He even fucking admitted to it, the little slut. 

Nobody can tell him he's not service oriented  _ now _ . Calling you out, Pizza Hut. 

"As you wish, princess." 

He presses his pursed lips against the slit, pushing his tongue out and slathering as much saliva as he can onto the hot, puffy skin, getting everything nice and slick- then starts properly. 

"Aahh..." He moans happily, slurping at the skin loudly before opening wide, tongue rubbing between the slit firmly, fucking against it, the tip searching for sensitive points- nooks shouldn't be  _ as _ complicated as pussy, but for some reason Dirk wants to know this particular one real well. 

"Mmm so wet..." he wriggles his tongue back and forth on the top of the slit, trying to push the tip of his tongue in. 

All the while he looks up to Karkat, eyes half-lidded, looking cocky as can be.

Karkat sighs deeply as Dirk finally starts to dig into him. It’s nice, at first, like the way Dirk rubs his scars, but it quickly grows into something more. Heat balloons up inside him, leaving him panting and trying not to make a real sound.

Dirk moaning with his nook in his mouth though-- Fuck, that’s just… really fucking hot, isn’t it? Does Dirk like this? Of course he would, the man is a goddamn pervert. He’s probably getting off on it at this very moment, the sick kinky fuck.

The eye contact Dirk keeps with him is… intense. It’s embarrassing. It makes Karkat feel even more open and exposed than he already is, and he wants nothing more than to close his eyes, but he can’t. It feels like a challenge: Who’s going to break first?

Karkat, probably.

His cheeks flush hot and bright, watching Dirk watch him. Watching red material spill all over Dirk’s mouth and chin as he fucks his tongue into him even further. Dirk’s nose buries up into the base of his bulge, and  _ fuck _ , that’s it.

He breaks the eye contact to roll his head back, a high whine bubbling up into his mouth. His thighs hug Dirk’s ears, shaking slightly as his bulge struggles under its confines with renewed interest.

“Please…” he finally begs, unable to help the little chirps and moans, now that he’s started them. His fingers clench and unclench with each twitch and flick of the tongue inside him, it’s  _ so much, so good. _

“Dirrr k…”

Dirk moans again, deeper, as he feels material seeps over his tongue, spilling over his lips and dripping down into the sink. His plan is an amazing success. 

He makes a teasing 'haa haa.' when Karkat tilts his head back, panting against Karkat's genitals- he tries so hard. 

"Yeaah, you just can't help yourself, can you Kitten...? Making all those cute little kitty-sounds, you better be careful if you don't want Dave banging on the door... Bet he'd think it  _ was _ a kittycat... Not too wrong..." 

He mumbles it, moving up to lap at the base of Karkat's bulge, going light enough that it won't trigger anything. "Though maybe that's what you want, hmm? Kinky fucker..."

It feels nicer to be here at home, on his own turf, taking Karkat so fully, seeing him lose all composure and dripping into his sink, mewling so sweetly for him. Fuck, swallowing his material like this feels so filthy, he  _ loves _ it... He'll definitely try to swallow down as much as he can when Karkat comes. 

Because Karkat  _ will _ come. 

"Beg me more, baby... Tell me pretty, pretty please, and I'll make you see stars, I'll finger your pretty nook and slurp at your bulge until you come all over mine and Dave's sink. You'll love that won't you... mark your territory or whatever the fuck..." To hammer the promise home, he slides the hand on Karkat's waist down to between his legs, a finger playing with the slit, getting it nice and wet.

“ _ Don’t-- _ ” Karkat starts, voice sharp with warning. “D-don’t fucking…  _ Dave _ …”

Hearing Dave’s name spill from his own mouth in such a depraved way-- How  _ dare _ Dirk bring Dave into this?

He doesn’t hear anything else Dirk says, mind spinning in furious circles between Dirk, Dave,  _ black, red. _ He’s been doing such a good job of keeping those feelings reeled in, but now, as he lays here open and exposed, they bubble up and boil over and he wants  _ Dave. _

Violent spades flash in his eyes as he looks back down on Dirk. “I’ll kill you,” he starts to say, but then those too good fingers are curling inside him again, and he nearly  _ screams. _ It’s half fury, half pleasure, and he doesn’t fucking know what to do with himself.

He’s so worked up, so  _ hot _ with feeling, he’s suddenly left scrambling for his bearings as his orgasm slams into him like a truck. His thighs clech and shake around Dirk’s shoulders, every muscle wound up tight. He pulls so hard on Dirk’s hair, grips the edge of the sink so tight that it’s amazing nothing breaks.

As the stars start to fade, he locks his ankles behind Dirk’s back, effectively trapping him in. “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he warns, voice low and warbling. It’s only now that he notices he’s purring, fucking  _ purring _ for this jackass. For thoughs of Dave.

Fuck.  _ Fuck. _

"Mmgh--!" Dirk grins in victory, then curses as Karkat suddenly comes; he was  _ barely _ even playing with Karkat's bulge, so how the fuck- 

No time to think; he lets Karkat crush his face against his crotch, and he suckles firmly on the area between Karkat's bulge and slit, gulping down as much of the come as he can, a dizzy rush going through him- he's literally chugging Karkat's material, that's fucking  _ insane _ . 

He can feel Karkat purring, and grins to himself; that's not pitch. Is Karkat feeling all mixed up thinking about Dave? Hah. That's just fucking hilarious. 

To make Karkat stop yapping, he shoves in a third finger, curling them up and twisting them in a practiced circle, the breath of his amused voice hot against Karkat's bulge, "You filthy slut- you said trolls don't come from their nooks alone, but here you are, spilling from just a bit of licking... Still wanting more like some desperate whore." 

Instead of pinning Karkat's bulge, he grips at the base of it, letting it wrap around his hand; hell yeah. The grip on his fist is so much firmer than he anticipated. Probably feels fucking great inside his ass. 

A brief flash of Karkat strapped to the bed while Dirk sits on top of him, enjoying as Karkat's bulge thrashes inside him and pleasures him without Karkat being able to stop-- 

Hmm. Another time. 

"But babe... if you're going to be a loud bitch and not even be civil enough to ask me nicely.... Should I let you feel good, hmm...?" He squeezes at Karkat's bulge, as much as he dares, "Maybe I'll just give you so much pleasure you just," a hard thrust of his fingers, "can't," he twists them, pulls them out, then thrusts them back in again even harder, " _ stand it _ ..." He looks back up to Karkat, eyes narrowed. 

"Whatcha say sweetums? Keep it up and Dave will  _ really _ know who's making these amazing porn-sounds..."

“Stooop…” Karkat tries to say, but it comes out on a whine, slurred between restrained purrs. He’s  _ trying _ to  _ stop  _ purring, but he fucking can’t. He can’t get Dave out of his head, especially if Dirk keeps talking about him. “Stop s-saaaying… Da-aave…”

A heavy, satisfied moan sits deep in his chest as his bulge wraps around Dirk’s wrist. The gratification is white hot, mixed with the suspended high of his orgasm, and it  _ aches. _

Everything starts to smear together, his head spinning, and he has to lay back against the mirror to try and catch his breath. He doesn’t even  _ try  _ to open his eyes.

Slowly, the throbbing ache flowers back into an overwhelming thrill. Dirk’s fingers thrusting in and out of him make his fucking toes curl. He maintains just enough coherency to cup Dirk’s cheek and look down on him with hazy eyes.

“Mouth…” he reminds, rubbing his thumb along Dirk’s bottom lip.

Seeing Karkat this doped up on his own arousal's got to be one of the hottest things Dirk has experienced in his  _ life _ . 

And he's experienced some hot things. Like fire.

"Yeah..." Is his voice breathy? Who fucking cares. Dave himself could come strolling in and Karkat wouldn't even fucking notice. 

He starts lapping at Karkat's nook again, licking around where his fingers sink in and out of him in a steady pace, then up to noisily slurp at the drenched folds. "You love this don't you? God, you taste good... Think I wouldn't mind drowning if it was choking on your material. Yee-fucking-haw." 

He keeps squeezing and releasing his bulge, hoping it'll imitate another bulge well enough. "You some kind of exhibitionist pervert or something...? Love knowing Dave is just a room away...?" Should have known; it's always the prudes. 

Before Karkat can start complaining about the lack of mouth-action he goes back to thoroughly frenching at his nook, nose bobbing and rubbing a little against the gap between his own hand and the root of Karkat's bulge. He thumbs the folds open further and start  _ really _ getting to work. 

The wet sounds echoing on the tiles and Karkat's sweet little whimpers has him  _ aching _ , but the thought of being able to come on Karkat's dazed face keeps him going.

The soft, lost tone in Dirk’s voice churns inside Karkat and makes him quiver. Just knowing that Dirk is getting off on this as much as he is, is-- so fucking hot. The praises make Karkat whimper, caressing his hand more softly back into Dirk’s hair.

He’s so blissed out, he’s not really listening to anything Dirk is saying. He  _ does  _ hear him say Dave’s name again, though, and that sends his thoughts spiraling again.

Dave is his best friend. He doesn’t know what that means, exactly, but it’s not a moirail. Well, kind of. He trusts Dave. He likes being close with Dave. Maybe he thinks about kissing him when they’re watching movies together. Maybe he thinks about touching him and pulling him closer when they’re cuddling. Maybe he’s got a few more flushed feelings than he would like to admit.

But Dave doesn’t  _ know any of that.  _ And Dirk doesn’t need to know either.

And Dirk  _ definitely _ doesn’t need to know how badly he wishes Dave were here right now. His kismesis and his matesprit both touching him at the same time? Squeezing his bulge, licking into his nook, fucking him from both ends until he can’t think straight?

Before he can think too hard about it, a particularly good squeeze/lick/thrust combo has him falling apart again. He’s weak while he cums, fluttering and full body shaking. His purrs cut off into chirps and mewls, so soft and desperate.

“D-Da… Mmm..n…  _ Dirk…  _ Shit…”

His thighs squeeze tight around Dirk’s head, pulling him in close. He’s cold and hot at the same time, and he can’t seem to get Dirk close enough.

Dirk feels full, but fuck if he's not going to enjoy the victory of Karkat falling apart in his hands a  _ second _ time, with barely any pause from the first one. 

Making Karkat come is going to be his next favourite hobby at this point. He wants to know  _ exactly _ how quickly, how long, and how many times he'll be able to make him. 

"Yeahh, Karkat..." He slurps loudly to lick up as much of the mess as possible, eyeing the trail of material going into the drain of the sink. He again congratulates himself for choosing the  _ best _ place to make Karkat his bitch. 

"You're gonna come for me again, Karkat... I can feel it already, I'm gonna get you to come again and again until you cry. I won't stop until you turn sweet or turn messy, and you're halfway to one of'em." 

He has to talk a little louder since he's muffled against Karkat's genitals, but it works to his advantage. He moans into Karkat's nook yet again, grinning because he knows it'll feel good for the troll. 

"I'd let you sit on my cock, but you just had to go and be ungrateful. Bet you're fucking  _ aching _ for my dick now, aren't you? Want it fucking you through your third and fourth orgasm..." 

His fingers squelch as he ups his pace of fingerfucking, and he has to groan a little as he continues abusing all of Karkat's sweet-spots. His jaw is aching a little, his tongue is tired, but knowing that  _ he _ made Karkat like this, it makes up for it by tenfold. 

"You ready to tell me what a good boy you are...? I'll stop if you do... If you tell me 'please, Dirk, I've been a good boy'... You wanna do that yet? Or do you want more pleasure like the slut you are...?"

Dirk is  _ talking _ again, and it makes Karkat roll his eyes back in his head with an exaggerated sigh. His breath shakes, and his body is still trembling, so it’s hard to sound intimidating, but he does his best anyway.

“You know I’m meant to…” he has to stop, another aftershock of orgasm cutting him off on a weak moan. “...m-meant to fill buckets, right?”

Words are hard, so he lets the implication hang on it’s own in the air. That he’s never going to be satisfied. That he can keep going for much longer than Dirk will ever be able to keep up with.

Emotionally, though, he’s starting to get exhausted. He just came twice to the thought of his best friend while said best friend’s brother fucked him over the bathroom sick. And what was all that shit about kismesises and matesprites?

Fucking unbelievable.

His bulges unfurls from Dirk’s hand and wraps around it again, with a firm resolve that further backs up his earlier statement:  _ he’s not ready to quit yet. _

He shifts his position on the sink, letting his thighs spread over Dirk’s shoulders. The sight of the man is absolutely debauched. Covered in bright red material. Hair mussed to all hell. Feral look in his eyes. It makes Karkat feel good, knowing that he’s not the only one affected by all this.

He wants Dirk to fuck him now, but he’ll never say the things he wants to hear.

“I’m not anyone’s good boy… Least of all yours.” His voice is starting to steady out, which is as clear a sign as any that it’s time for Dirk to step his fucking game up. “Want you to fuck me, though…”

His hand comes down to tuck a finger under Dirk’s chin, and  _ god _ he wants to kiss that mess of a mouth. His own mouth hangs open just a bit with the desire of it.

Oh shit. Oh  _ shit _ , buckets, right. Culturally sensitive who...? 

"God, that's hot. Fuck, Karkat, I'm gonna make you come so much. I'm not gonna need dinner tonight, Kitty, I'm already getting full from your come." 

He growls it against Karkat's inner thigh, closing his eyes briefly, a small jolt going through him as Karkat's finger tips his head up to make their gaze lock-  _ fuck _ . Fuck, he wants to come. No, restrain yourself, Strider, this asshat isn't going to win just because he’s a multiorgasming slut. 

"Yeah, I bet you want me to fuck you, Kitty... Feel my cock crush into you and make you sloppy from the inside out. Your pussy is so fucking warm and tight babe, you have no idea how much I loved making you a mess at work." He starts up a hard pace with his fingers again. He wants to smack Karkat's hand away, but the hand he wants to do it with is firmly wrapped in bulge, so he only gives an ineffectual tug and tsks, licking his upper lip clean of material. Not that it matters, seeing as half his face is probably glistening red.

"Not going to, though. I'll make you beg for it, sure, but this mouth is more than enough to make you break, sugartits." To demonstrate, he buries his face in Karkat's nook again, very gently scraping his teeth against the upper folds before really getting in some heavy tongue-action, eyes shut in concentration. 

Fingers twist and stroke, thumb sometimes coming up to push and rub at the area above. Sometimes, he pulls all his fingers out and massages the skin between Karkat's nook and wastechute, the thumb briefly digging against his other hole before massaging up again and fucking into his nook. 

God, he wishes he had his toys here. Stuffing Karkat full of beads in one of his holes would be  _ so _ hot. Or just a huge plug... He wonders if he'd be able to feel the bump of it against the canal of his nook if he did plug him up? Something to test for sure... Wasn't chute-stuff taboo?? Even better if so, really…

Dirk has been…  _ swallowing it?  _ Did Karkat hear that right? Fucking swallowing it???

Dirty, filthy, disgusting, son of a bitch, depraved, lewd,  _ sexy motherfucker.  _ It’s un-fucking-fair how hot it is, that Dirk’s stomach is  _ full  _ of his material, and Karkat doesn’t know what to do with this new information.

At least he’s finally stopped purring.

He’s yanked away from that thought by teeth on skin, and  _ yes _ that is more fucking like it. Troll teeth in such a sensitive area are generally frowned upon, but  _ human  _ teeth? Just sharp enough to send a thrill up his spine without actually hurting him.

And then there’s a thumb pressed up against something it  _ shouldn’t be, _ and it makes Karkat flinch away with a gasp. His nook tightens threateningly around Dirk’s fingers, involuntarily pulling another whine from his lips.

“What the ffuck,” he asks, words breathy as he tries to come to terms with the fact that it was…  _ good.  _ He wants more, and before he can think too hard about it, he’s sinking further down on the counter, rolling his hips up just so, to open up his  _ apparently very sensitive _ other areas for Dirk.

Oh, that got him  _ really _ hot, didn't it. Hell yeah, kittycat wants some ass-play. "You want some double-stuffing, baby...? Some nice DP'ing from yours truly...?" He rakes his teeth over sensitive skin again, pressing his thumb firmly against Karkat’s chute, then running it back and forth over the puckered entrance, stopping his fingering for just a moment, slicking up the hole with Karkat's juices. 

"You're fucking  _ presenting _ to me, just like a good little bitch should... 'm glad you're finally being a good boy, baby, I knew you had it in you..." 

He moves down to lick into Karkat's nook again, keeping it busy while he slowly circles the second hole he's about to claim for the day, spitting out all the saliva he has in his mouth to let it drip down to meet his fingers. 

"Bet you didn't see this coming, Kitty. Your nook is twitching like crazy, I love that you'll just take everything I give you.." 

He stops talking to really wreck Karkat like he deserves, burying his face in Karkat's nook, sucking and slurping and pushing his tongue in as far in as he can. Squeezing Karkat's bulge is the easiest thing, just rhythmic, hard squeezes, sometimes rubbing his thumb against the slick length, almost pinching it. 

Then, because he always keeps his promises, he sinks in his first finger into Karkat's ass, both the rim and his finger wet enough for it to glide easily enough into him. He wriggles the finger, cursing himself for not checking if trolls have a prostate.

Before, Karkat hadn’t really been listening to anything Dirk was saying. But now, he is acutely aware of every word and  _ hanging on it. _

He can’t keep up with how fucking  _ dirty  _ the things he’s saying are. His mind circles around _ good boy, kitty  _ and  _ so good, baby;  _ and suddenly he WANTS to be good. He wants to be good so fucking badly, if Dirk will just let him cum again...

And then there’s something shoving it’s way up his chute, and he can’t help the shameless way he moans. It’s loud, without abandon, and has him arching off the sink into Dirk’s waiting mouth. It’s not something he ever knew he wanted, something no one has ever had the audacity to do-- but Dirk. Dirk is nothing  _ but  _ audacity.

Both hands grip the edge of the sink as he scrambles for his bearings. A hot wave of material gushes out of him-- not an orgasm, no, but  _ so fucking close. _

He can’t think straight-- he needs  _ more. _

“Please, Dirk,” he finally begs, voice choked up around his own chirps and little gasps. “Goddamit, I--”

He’s squirming, rocking grinding his hips down, just a _ little more. _

It’s pathetic, but he doesn’t care. 

_ “P-please…” _

Fuck...  _ Fuck! _ He's begging- Karkat Vantas is fucking begging, and it's because he, Dirk motherfucking Strider is so fucking  _ awesome _ . 

Part of him wants to pull back to see Karkat's face, but he wants Karkat to come almost as much as  _ Karkat _ probably does. It  _ needs _ to happen, he needs Karkat to come or else he might not fucking survive this. 

He moans deeply into the folds of Karkat, upping the pace of his suckles and slurps, his breath stuttering when he feels the bursts of material seeping out of him- he feels like a fucking  _ animal _ , slurping it up like it's the best. He feels like a dog with peanut butter, he needs that  _ in his mouth right now _ . 

God, maybe it's just as well that Karkat can't hear his internal monologue, he's all kinds of un-fucking-cool right now. 

To keep the thrusting of his fingers in Karkat's ass smooth, he drools whatever excess saliva he has in his mouth out, only swallowing when he knows he has a lot of material gathered up. Now saliva and material is all mixed up in the sink, some of it spilling over the edge since Karkat moved positions. 

Dirk couldn't give less of a shit. 

_ Come come come come _ , he thinks frantically, cheeks stinging with his own blush, his jaw downright tired from the work but he wouldn't dream of stopping. He continues moaning; later he'll claim it's because it got Karkat really horny, but honestly he just  _ is _ . He's so horny, this is so hot, this would be a wonderful way to die. 

A small bulb goes off in him; spades, right? What better way to set him off? 

Without further ado, he stuffs in another finger up his chute, thrusting in and out hard, hoping the burn will send him over the edge.

“Mmm!! Mmn n…” 

Karkat hardly makes it through the second finger. His body is so shocked by the unnatural intrusion, it feels so good, swirling together with the mouth on his nook and the hand squeezing his bulge; he only lasts another few seconds.

The orgasm that hits him this time is so hard, that he’s pretty sure he stops breathing. Everything all at once is full, tight, heavy-- and then he feels like he’s split open, raw, spilling out and melting all over the floor.

He’s left panting, slumped over the sink, eyes rolled back in his head with fluttering lids. He tries to grab for Dirk, for anything, to pull him closer and put himself back together. He  _ needs _ to be put back together, but he’s numb and tingling and he can’t tell where his arm starts and his fingers end.

So he gives up. He can’t speak, doesn’t want to. A soft hum vibrates from his chest, utterly satisfied and content.

"Mmm--" Dirk moans with Karkat, happily continuing to fuck into him, gulping down material until his belly  _ aches _ . 

That's three-  _ three _ times he's made Karkat come, that's so fucking hot, holy shit... 

One more. he'll do one more, because he thinks four is the perfect number. Usually he'd have about five explanations ready for exactly why, he probably had some plan with it- but all he's got is the number, burning in his mind. 

He makes a small sound of alarm as Karkat suddenly slumps, hurriedly ripping his fingers out of Karkat's chute to rearrange his legs properly around his neck, crossing his ankles for him. It takes only a second though, and he doesn't want Karkat to get coherent just yet. 

"Yeah, Karkat.. yeaahh.... fu-uck..." He slips the fingers back inside, twisting them like he would inside his nook, letting go of Karkat's bulge, detangling it from him so he can rub at his nook as well and look up to lock his gazes with the troll. 

"Good..? 's it feel good to be taken apart with just my tongue'n fingers..?" He smirks crookedly, Karkat's bulge petting his cheek lazily.

Karkat gives a short grunt as the fingers are stuffed back inside him. The raw throb of pleasure that ripples through him when Dirk curls his fingers… it aches in all the right places. It makes him whine and grab for Dirk’s shoulders again, fingers curling in the collar of his shirt.

He’s oversensitive, but comfortable. He just wants Dirk to keep touching him, to stay with him. He wants Dirk to hold him, but he doesn’t know how to say it.

“...yeah…” he finally says, in response to Dirk’s question. It’s quiet, compliant. Nothing like where he was only a few minutes ago. “...feels good…”

He’s dazed, and more than willing to let his mind stay in a puddle.

"-- Y-yeah...?" Uh, what? Dirk's brows shoot up in surprise, taking in how dazed he looks, how lax he's turned. 

Did- did he just put Karkat into some kind of fucking Troll-subspace? That's- not scary at all. He better check it out though, just to be certain. 

"You like being my good Kitten, hmm..?" He slows down his thrusts, instead moving his mouth up to suckle at the base of Karkat's bulge, letting it slap at him; his face is wet enough that honestly, it doesn't make much of a difference. 

He dips a thumb into each hole, probably not enough to satisfy Karkat's apparent hunger, but just knowing that he  _ could _ and  _ is _ is a huge rush. He's- really doing this. 

Sex is so fucking awesome.

Karkat whines again, and he’s dangerously close to starting to purr again. He’s sore and overused, but it’s still so good and so sweet, he can’t resist it.

“I’m good...” he admits, finally, in his fucked out state. “So good…”

His voice tapers off into a low purr, and he tugs absently at Dirk’s collar again. It’s a sweet sound, compliant, docile. He’s feeling vulnerable now, and if Dirk doesn’t come up and hold him, he’s probably going to fall apart.

“Ple a se…” he tries, but it’s hard to speak around the rumble in his throat. “...here…”

Oh god, Dirk has officially broken Karkat Vantas. He's not sure if he's feeling hot or cold about this, but he honestly doesn't have the heart to  _ deny _ Karkat when he's actually being--... Really fucking sweet-..?? 

Fuck. 

Gently, after moving his hands away from Karkat's genitals with a wet squelch, he untangles Karkat's legs from around his neck, sitting up so he can lean over Karkat and wrap his arms around his waist, a hand moving up to support his head. 

"Yeah, I'm here, Karkat, you're doing really good-..." He leans back a little so Karkat will fall against his chest, lifted away from his probably uncomfortable spot on the sink. He rubs a hand over Karkat's back, surprisingly okay with the warmth radiating from the troll's fucked out form. 

"Are you tired, Kitten...? Need anything...?" His voice goes from drawling to murmuring- he kind of reminds him of Dave when he was a kid, and his voice reflects it if his face doesn't. 

First priority is to make sure he hasn't fucked Dave's best friend into a troll-coma.

Karkat easily lets Dirk pick him up, and melts into his chest as he’s held. He’s definitely going to be extremely embarrassed about this later on, and he’s going to deny ever having had any part in it, but right now… Dirk is warm and it’s everything he needs.

He wraps his arms tight around Dirk’s neck and nuzzles up into it, breathing him in. He smells like arousal, heat, excitement… concern. Is Dirk concerned about him? What for? Karkat is perfectly happy, right where he is.

“Juss... you,” he answers. He tucks his mouth into Dirk’s throat, feeling the way his pulse races against his lips.

Some part of him remembers that Dirk hasn’t cum yet, and he… really really wants to make Dirk feel good. Make Dirk feel as good as he does.

He brings his legs up around Dirk’s body, thighs snug around his hips. He grinds softly against him, fabric rubbing against oversensitive skin. He’s still so wet, it’s ridiculous. It makes his head spin, just thinking about Dirk fucking another orgasm out of him.

His moan is just as soft as the roll of his hips, kissing now where his lips are pressed to Dirk’s throat.

"Um-..." Dirk’s voice comes out slightly strangled, flustered by the easy confession. He- supposes Karkat really hit subspace really fucking hard? He never actually thought it was a thing. Something people said they experienced because they wanted to appear more trusting and sexual than they really were. 

Not that he ever did that. 

Still, he makes sure to hug Karkat back the best he can, a shiver running through him; he might get Karkat's point of view from last time, this is-- intimate. A different kind of intimate, which feels nice but-... Yeah, Dirk's not built for this soft shit, is he... 

When he feels Karkat rubbing against him, his breath hitches and his pulse jumps-  _ Jesus _ , he almost forgot he's diamond fucking hard... Good that Karkat has his eyes on the prize, fucking hell... 

With some jostling, he manages to squeeze a hand in between them, pushing his sweats down, moaning a little too loudly as his cock bobs out, slapping against the crook between Karkat's thigh and abdomen. 

"You want my dick in you, baby...? Want my warm dick rubbing you nice and deep...?" He rubs his member against Karkat's puffy, worked over slit, wetting his cock. The feeling is so good he feels light-headed. 

"Tell me how much you want it, Kitten.. Use your pretty words..." he says. Somehow, calm and murmuring like this, he doesn't seem condescending. He seems... Indulging. Maybe even sweet. He tilts his head to the side, giving Karkat more neck to kiss.

Karkat nods furiously, face still tucked nicely into Dirk’s neck. When he speaks, it’s muffled into his skin.

He’s all used up. He’s tired and fucked out, but that doesn’t make him want it any less. Dirk’s cock rocking deep up into his nook is the only thing that would be more comforting than the arms around him.

“Please…” he says first, because that’s the word that Dirk seems to like the most. “Want it… in me…”

As weak as he is, he keeps his legs wrapped firmly around Dirk’s hips. The slide of his thick cock against his folds is the worst kind of tease, so close yet so far. His bulge squirms lazily, searching out for something to hold onto. It finds the head of Dirk’s cock and encircles around it, making Karkat hiss desperately into Dirk’s neck.

"Aaaahhhh..." Dirk groans deeply as Karkat's bulge finds his dick, and he is  _ so _ tempted to just let it squeeze an orgasm out of him; but he's already decided, four times. 

He's going to finish what he started. 

With great reluctance, me moves a hand between them to move Karkat's bulge away, letting it play with his fingers instead. That leaves him grinding against Karkat though, not quite able to sink into him on the first try with how wet they're both becoming. 

"Mmm... Yeah, you want it so bad, don't you, sweet thing..." He turns his head so he can breathe the words breathlessly against Karkat's ear, his tone almost reverent. "So sweet and soft for me, such a good Kitten..." 

He looks down between them, almost groaning in frustration- hitting the target is really difficult; if he uses his other hand, Karkat will tip backwards, and he doesn't-- want that. The closeness is... He doesn't mind it. At the moment anyway. 

Dirk twitches when the head of his dick finally aligns with Karkat's entrance, so he fucks into Karkat quick so he doesn't slip away; an honest to got yelp slipping out of him at the feeling of Karkat's scorching nook clenching around him. 

There's just  _ no _ way Dave hasn't put this all together. He'll send him an ironic apology-video later.

The way Dirk fumbles to get it in, it’s so honest and eager, Karkat can’t help the laugh that puffs out of him. It’s cute, how flustered Dirk is now, after everything they’ve already done.

The laugh falls smoothly into a moan as Dirk gets it right though. As Dirk slams into him, Karkat hugs him tighter, clings to him harder. His muscles start to tremble with the effort.

Everything hurts all over, a dull hum that fills him up so good, that he can’t help the little kitten-like mewl he makes. “S… so good…” he murmurs, burying his forehead into Dirk’s shoulder. The solid press of Dirk’s body against him is the only thing keeping him together.

With one arm still locked securely around Dirk’s neck, he lets the other fall to play with the hairs at the back of Dirk’s neck. They’re softer there, shorter, with less stiff product to crunch beneath his fingers. It’s nice… so he pushes his fingers further up into it, cradling Dirk against him as much as he himself is being cradled.

He doesn’t realize how sweet this has gotten. He doesn’t realize exactly how gentle Dirk is being with him. He doesn’t think about Dave, or anything else. He still hates Dirk--  _ deeply--  _ but this is the payoff of that pitch dark flame. Being needed. Being cherished and protected. Because no one else is allowed to hurt Karkat the way Dirk does.

Not that Dirk feels the same way… but now isn’t the time for that.

“Mmm… Dirk…” he chirps, feeling so full and so sated. “Please, fuck me.”

"Fuck-  _ fuck _ ..." Dirk is somewhat glad Karkat is as gone as he is, because he's starting to fray at the edges as well, the pitch of his voice slowly going up as tension coils tighter and tighter in his gut. 

This is- this is  _ not _ how he thought this was going to go- Karkat is  _ so _ ... "So good for me-... ugh, you're so hot..." It's not fair, he's getting whiplash from how back and forth Karkat is being. When Dirk tried being nice last time, he got fucking scolded, but when Karkat does it it's suddenly fine? He should dump his ass on the sink again, make him come and look up at him with those large, wounded eyes-- 

Ugh. He can't do it. This is too... 

He moans in a way he'd never categorize as being sweet, bucking his hips short but hard, squeezing and rubbing at his bulge unapologetically- Karkat obviously isn't done, and if he doesn't up his game, Dirk is going to blow before Karkat is even halfway to it. 

This new position is a relief to his lower back, really, he rationalises to himself as he hugs Karkat tenderly to himself. He wants to nuzzle into Karkat's hair, feel it brush against his face- ugh, but he's got material all over his face, that'll just feel... no... 

" _ Oh _ , Karkat... Haa." He squeezes his eyes shut, putting one foot on his stool instead of his knee, stretching his aching muscles a little. "Feels so good-  _ shit _ -... Tell me you're a good boy..."

Part of Karkat still doesn’t want to give in to the  _ mine  _ stuff. He might be being good, but he’s not  _ Dirk’s _ good boy. Not until they have a proper discussion about it, at least.

Still, Dirk has been good  _ for him _ so far, so he might as well indulge a little. They’ve both already said things they’re going to regret, so what’s the difference?

“Good for you…” he murmurs, tucked perfectly into Dirk’s body. And then, before he can stop it, “...pitch for you...”

A hot wave of embarrassment and vulnerability washes over him, overwhelming him to the point of curling in on himself, tightening up,  _ clenching down. _ He sinks his teeth into Dirk’s shoulder to ground himself, but it’s not enough. The shallow, quick thrusts of Dirk’s cock inside him pull at his last threads, and he’s coming undone.

This time when he cums, it’s  _ dry _ and it  _ hurts.  _ His nook spasms, bulge pulling tight around Dirk’s fingers. His entire body jolts, vibrating with the the shock of it, and then there are real tears in his eyes.

He buries wet cheeks in Dirk’s shirt, shaking his head like he can’t fucking take it anymore, because he  _ can’t. _

“Too much,” he mumbles, but he’s still chirping and whining like he can’t get enough.

Karkat's whimpery confessions are too much- everything is becoming  _ too much _ . He said it- hell yeah, he  _ confessed _ , he folded, Dirk  _ wins _ , he wins again and Karkat is so good-...

"Oh, baby-...  _ Oh _ ..." He stills with difficulty when Karkat tells him too much, groaning in slight frustration and utter arousal; Karkat is clenching down on him so deliciously, and he's  _ so _ close--... 

His bitten neck sends spikes of heat through his chest and down, and he almost wishes Karkat would start biting again, but- he feels wetness against his shirt and he  _ needs _ to see it. 

"Mmm, Karkat, soon-... Soon, Kitten, I need to come in you-... fuck-..." 

He wants to ...  _ tell _ Karkat how he feels, is the vague, slightly mortifying thought in him, how unraveled he is, how good Karkat managed to fuck him up by just  _ letting him eat him out _ , that shit is most unbecoming, how the fuck did he  _ do _ that-...? 

Dirk moves his arm up to slide his hand into the hair on the back of Karkat's head, pulling him back almost gently so he can see Karkat's wet cheeks.

"There you go- just a bit more, it'll feel so -  _ mmh _ , so good.... you're  _ perfect _ , I--" he can't  _ say _ he's pitch for him, he can't when he's not quite sure what that means to him, but he's- Karkat is  _ infuriating _ , he's so much fun- 

He pushes forward to give him a deep kiss, starting up a slow roll of his lips, maybe cruelly so. He's so close,  _ so close so close _ ... 

"T-- tug my hair, baby,  _ fuck _ I'm so close, make me come..." He muffles it into Karkat's mouth, needing that extra pain, feeling it's  _ right _ ..

For a moment, Karkat is completely lost. He’s so blissed out, he can’t feel anything. He feels high and weightless… until reality fades back in, and a deep, deep ache fills him all the way to the brim.

_ Until reality fades back in, _ and Dirk is still clinging to him, whispering sweet and filthy things to him,  _ still thrusting into him.  _ The tears flow freely now, overwhelmed and oversensitive.

Apparently, he underestimated Dirk’s ability to outlast him. Not only is he well and thoroughly satisfied,  _ but there’s still more to be had. _

He slides both hands up Dirk’s neck and into the back of his hair, clinging to him, pulling sharply at his hair. His nook feels _ raw _ and  _ overused  _ and the way Dirk’s cock scrapes inside it is…

Is…

_ Still good. _

He can’t think, can’t focus on anything but the way his body and mind  _ scream. _ He’s hot, cold, tight, weightless. He’s  _ fucking sobbing. _

His bulge has long since retreated back into it’s sheath, too sore to withstand the onslaught of sensation. His nook squeezes as tight as it can, trying to reject Dirk and suck him back in at the same time.

He’s breaking.

He’s broken.

He tries to plead for Dirk, for anything, but nothing comes out except choked sobs and pathetic whimpers.

His mind is fuzzy. Everything is fuzzy. He’s going to pass out any second.

Dirk grips Karkat's hip with his free hand, eyes going hazy while still staring at Karkat's crying face. As Karkat gives his hair a sharp tug, Dirk is  _ gone _ . 

With a sharp yelp, he smacks their hips together a final time, and Dirk is  _ blown away _ . He didn't know he could orgasm this hard without aid, but there are god-damned  _ stars _ in his vision, his vision is whitening a little- or darkening?? 

To his mortification, there's tears stinging in his own eyes, because it's just  _ so _ much- Karkat is so much, he's  _ everything _ . His yelp is followed by a sweeter, more pleading sound, his hips twitching against Karkat's in the aftermath, his legs shaky. 

Holy. 

_ Shit _ . 

He scrambles for Karkat, letting go of Karkat's hair to wrap his arms around the troll shakily, holding him first as shivers wracks through him, his cock still deep inside of him. That's- he never thought- he thought  _ last _ time was intense-... 

He snuggles into Karkat's neck, material on his face be damned, and pants, energy running out like a faulty phone-battery, literally going from 21% to 0% because fuck you, you didn't charge as much as you thought and now it's shutting off and you probably don't remember your pin. 

Dirk is faintly aware that his thoughts are ridiculous. He can't even see. Are his eyes closed...? 

Slowly, he's climbing down from cloud seven, and realizes he's shushing gently at Karkat, smoothing at his back, squeezing him a little and making soft sounds for him to soothe his sobs- huh. Didn't know he could do that without feeling like a supreme moron.

The hot wave of Dirk’s cum inside him-- that’s it.

Karkat is done.

With a full body shudder, he completely fucking checks out.

Dirk’s calm voice soothes him, but he can’t hear anything Dirk is saying. The hands on his body comfort him, but he can’t tell where they’re coming from.

Minutes go by, where he can’t move or speak.

When he finally starts to fade back in, his eyes are raw and stinging. Every part of his body aches, and he’s…

Tired.

He’s just so tired.

He’s completely spent and he can’t even keep up the cuddling anymore, so he just lets Dirk do all the work.

He’s never hit his limit like this before. He’s never had a _ dry  _ orgasm before. Turns out, his stamina isn’t as infinite as he thought.

It takes a while for Dirk to realize that no, Karkat is actually not coming back online. 

He waits for a while, patting and stroking at Karkat's hair, holding him close and asking tentatively "Karkat..? Kitten....? Lil' KK...? .... Shit..." but he doesn't get an answer. 

After some panicked shuffling and a couple of google searches later, he manages to calm down a little; apparently, this is possible if a troll gets overly stimulated or something...? So, he was basically right. 

Right...

... 

With a huge sigh, Dirk gets to action. He pulls out of Karkat with a small squelch and a sigh, then hoists Karkat properly onto the toilet; not the toilet seat but the toilet, letting the various fluids left in him leak out some. It's a little arousing (very arousing), but he's not really feeling it; his one time was more than enough. 

He wets parts of a towel under the sink (washing away the smudges of red before they dry as well, because he's a cleaning genius like that), then takes a cloth to Karkat's skin carefully, making sure he won't stain whatever next he sits or lies on red. 

He washes his own face, a hand in Karkat's hair to keep him steady (and to feel at his hair, because it's a little fascinating), makes sure he looks somewhat presentable, slips his shades back on, and unlocks the door. 

".... Dave?" His voice is a little hoarse. The silence is deafening. 

Dave's left the building, it seems. Figures, and is also good. 

He pushes the door open the rest of the way, grabbing Karkat's miraculously stain-free sweats and underwear, then hoists Karkat up in his arms again. "Okay, sugartits, here we go." He shambles over to Dave's bedroom, knocking and going inside when there's no answer. 

Karkat can use Dave's bed. 

He dumps him down half-gently, too weak-armed at the moment to make it sweet, slips on his boxers and tucks him in. 

If Karkat gets mad about this, he'll only have himself to blame. With a last little smooch to Karkat's lips, he leaves the room.


	3. Dirk/Karkat/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave admits to hearing everything that went down in the Strider bathroom. He gets everything that's coming to him, to share Karkat with his big brother.
> 
> Dirk and Dave get pretty close, so if you aren't here for that, don't read this chapter.

Several hours later, when Karkat wakes up alone in Dave’s bed, he’s a little… hazy. It takes him a while to realize where he is, and why. When it starts to come back to him, he tries to sit up, but he’s immediately sent back down with a pounding headache.

He’s fucking… nauseous. He needs to drink some water.

It’s on par with the worst sucrose-induced hangover he’s ever had, and it takes him quite a while to rouse himself up and out of bed. He tries not to worry about where Dirk is, why Dave’s bed is empty, or any of the other pressing questions swirling around in his head. Right now, he just needs to get himself home and sort himself out.

He spends the rest of the night just… thinking. Thinking about Dirk. About Dave. About what he wants. About what he _doesn’t_ want.

And he realizes that he… doesn’t want to lose Dirk. He’s not sure if that’s even a question he should be asking, but considering the fact that he woke up alone, he feels like it’s a valid fear. Everything between his third orgasm and waking up is… blurry and messy. He remembers bits and pieces, but mostly he can only remember how vulnerable he felt. How badly he needed Dirk. And then, _he woke up alone._

He tries not to assume the worst. He tries to stay calm.

He makes it through most of the next moring and into the afternoon, before the loneliness really starts to set in. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and he needs a fucking hug.

Automatically, he texts Dave and asks if he can come over.

It’s only after he’s hit send, that he wonders if maybe he should have text Dirk instead.

Dave, quite frankly, is feeling like a huge fucking pervert. 

Not that he should be. Because, well, he didn't _do_ anything, other than overhear his bro and Karkat getting it on real loud, and really poorly concealed. 

Did he pop a boner? Yes. Was it because Karkat sounded like- like some kind of porn-star dream...? Absolutely. 

It's just. Weird. It's weird, knowing that the two of them... _Wow_ , really did that. Just, no preamble, just went to the bathroom and _went at it_ , like. For a _long_ time, even. 

So when Karkat sends him a message asking if they can hang out? You know, there's some nerves. Some _oof,_ some ' _am I going to feel horrible awkward, knowing that I've totally stripped my dick like five times from the memory of your moans_ ' kind of vibes. 

So. Yeah. There's that. 

But Karkat's his best friend. And, like, that doesn't have to change...? And he would miss him horribly if they stopped hanging out, and ... Yeah. 

TG: course you can come over bro i need you to finish the last chapter of the comic you think i forgot? lol buy me some mountain dew though im out.

"Bro???? Uhhhh..." He hesitates, but yeah, he should probably know. "Karkat's comin' over." 

Dirk, on his couch, smirks. He is, is he?

Dave shuffles when Dirk doesn’t say anything, just wears that classic smirk on his face. Is Dave really going to have to be the one to bring it up? Really? Dirk up and hijacks his best friend and doesn’t even have the decency to come clean about it?

Makes Dave sit out in the living room and _listen,_ and wants to act like everything is fine?

“So uhh…” he starts again. “You and Karkat… huh?”

Dirk's smirk widens, and he shrugs casually. It'll be fun to see the little shit, see him flush under his gaze again.

"Yeah, me'n Karkat. Guessin' you heard our lil' tussle?"

Dave fights the heat that tries to rise to his cheeks. He doesn’t meet Dirk’s eyes just yet. “It’s not like you were trying to be quiet,” he says. He’s not bitter or anything, though. He fails to mention how he sat outside, trying to make out muffled words between wet sound effects.

“It wasn’t very cool of you, actually, to do it on my time. You know? At least you could have waited until we were finished jamming.”

Dirk blinks under his shades. He was interrupting something? They just seemed to be like, quietly reading. He makes a mental note of it anyway, filing it away for later; people have the strangest fucking rules. 

"Oh. How about that." He pauses for a little, brows twitching together briefly; then. "Oohhhh. Yeah, that makes sense if you were jamming. No wonder he got all weird about you."

It’s Dave’s turn to blink. And then blink again.

“Weird about me?” he asks. Suddenly he can’t get himself out of the mental image of what went down in the bathroom, and he stomps the fucking brakes on _that_ thought as quickly as he can.

“Weird how?”

"You dog,” Dirk accuses. He snorts a little before continuing; he wants the dirty deets, huh? 

"Well, I was kinda teasin' about how you were just a couple feet away and that he should be quiet, and don't you know the fucker starts _purring_?" He snickers, bringing his knuckles up to his mouth. 

"I thought was really funny at the time, but if you were being all pale and shit beforehand I guess that's a thing...?"

Dave furrows his brows, and he’s talking before he can check his fucking mouth.

“It’s only a thing if we’re like… piling, bro. Getting our mad fucking cuddle on, and shit. He was probably purring for _you.”_

He tries not to dwell on the pang of hurt that gives him. He kinda thought, if anything, Karkat was just using his bro to get his rocks off. Not… all having feelings for him and shit. Why didn’t Karkat tell him, if he had feelings for Dirk?

Dirk snorts again, shaking his head. "I _highly_ doubt that bro. He was like, moaning your name and purring. You don't have to hide that shit from me, dude, I don't care." 

He sits up, looking over to Dave, lifting his shades to give Dave a _look_ ™️.

"And when I was done with him, he sure wasn't purring." He wriggles his eyebrows.

Dave pulls a face, and says, “Gross, bro, don’t fucking tell me that.”

And then, delayed, his mind does a triple backflip into the first thing Dirk said. Scratch the fucking record.

“...he moaned my name?”

This time, Dave _can’t_ ignore the heat that rises to his cheeks-- or that shoots straight down and loads right into his nut canon.

And it’s now, that Karkat chooses to open the front door. He doesn’t notice the pair on the couch at first, and Dave doesn’t _let him_ before hopping up to meet him at the front door.

“Oh-- hey,” Karkat says, a little taken aback by how quickly Dave is on him. He holds up the mountain dew and offers a simple, “Here.”

Dave takes it, because he knows that if he doesn’t, his hands might end up doing something else. He doesn’t even say hello, his mind is still reeling over _Karkat apparently moaning his name while getting railed by his older brother--_

Karkat finally catches a glance in the living room and… of course Dirk is on the couch.

Deep breathes, Karkat, deep breaths.

He goes ahead of Dave and takes a seat on the furthest end of the couch from Dirk, smushed as far into the corner as he possibly can.

“Dirk,” he greets, as short and nonchalant as he can manage.

Dirk, of course, either doesn't give a shit about what Karkat is feeling right now or honestly doesn't understand. 

Without preamble, he slides over to Karkat and wraps an arm around him, friendly as can be. His shit-eating grin is a little telling. 

"Why hiya there, Kitten. Didn't bring a Mountain Dew for me..? Not even a _coffee_..?" A fake pout. "I know I'm picky when it comes to coffee but that's just cruel..." He gives Karkat a teasing little smooch on his cheek. Seems his sweet little kitten has reverted to being a grumpy old cat. 

No worries, though; grumpy old cat is still cute.

Karkat is in _need,_ and his first instinct is to lean into Dirk and let him kiss all over his face. But instead, he is hyper aware of Dave standing right behind him, so he stiffens up and shrinks away.

“Woah-” he starts, wedging a hand between Dirk’s body and his own in a weak attempt to push him away. “Can you not?? Right here??”

He spares a glance back at Dave, an uncomfortable type of fear starting to nag at the back of his mind. What would Dave think if he knew…?

"Oh, you don't want a kiss there...? Maybe a kiss somewhere else...?" Dirk teases. He's pretty sure Karkat is joking, because how could he be uncomfortable with _this_ when he was moaning like a cheap whore with Dave, his moirail, right outside...? He grins a little wider, stealing himself another kiss, this time Karkat’s jaw. 

Meanwhile, Dave is standing with his Mountain Dew in his hand, cold-sweating. Oh, God. Look at them. They look all... _couple-y_. That's fine. There's nothing wrong with that, just two bros being hella gay and kissing in front of of. His bro, who he likes a lot. 

"Uh, yeah, Karkles..." Dave's voice might be a little higher pitched than normal. "It's fine, really, y'all do whatever couple-stuff you want, you know...? I'm not judging, I ain't no homophobe, no sir." To stop his mouth from running, he opens up his MD and takes a deep gulp. 

Smooth. 

Dirk's brows furrow a little; is he... _missing_ something...?

Something cold pierces Karkat’s heart. Dave’s tone is… Oh fuck, goddamnit. He can tell that Dave is uncomfortable, obviously, but he doesn’t exactly have the best grasp on _why._ He assumes it’s because Karkat didn’t tell him about this, and he feels like he _lied_ to Dave.

It doesn’t even cross his mind that Dave might be upset because he’s jealous. It would be stupid if the two of them had feelings for each other this whole time and never said anything. No, Karkat is positive that his red feelings are unrequited.

Still, he tries again to pry himself away from Dirk and turn to look at Dave. “I’m sorry, it’s not--” It’s not what? It’s not what it looks like? It kind of… _is_ what it looks like. “I was going to tell you…”

The corners of Dirk's mouth dips further down, and he lets Karkat go. Yeah, he might be missing something. Palemate-drama..? 

"Look, dudes, if y'all wanna have a pale-sesh that's all good, but I had the decency to a least have a wall between us when I played my quadrant." He shifts away from Karkat, letting him have his room. He pushes his glasses up. 

"Not that I really see the problem. So what if you know what your palemate sounds like fucking, Dave, I made sure I was pretty quiet, so really there's no harm done." 

Dave's eyebrows disappears in his hairline, the MD bottle crinkling in his grip. "Bro, what the _fuck,_ " he croaks, his face slowly turning darker, "we're not fucking _pale-_ that is to say, we're not -- fucking, and we're _not pale,_ or-" He looks to Karkat, obviously lost.

"I mean, I won't say I'm not _affected,_ cause I obviously am, my bro and my _Bro_ are doing the hanky panky and now I get to hear that hey, you were mentioned in the middle of it, Dave, it seems like your bro found it pretty hot, my dude, and like, maybe yeah, I enjoyed listening, who _wouldn't_ enjoy listening-- _oh god forget I said that--_ no homo bro I just kind of-" Dave takes a desperate breath, and Dirk's eyebrows have also mysteriously disappeared.

"If you're gonna fuck, please don't do it here I can't take more sleepless nights- uh, not cause I'm doing the five knuckle shuffle like it's the meme-dance of the year, cause uhh.... _never mind that either,_ but safe to say you were loud, but I didn't hear you _moaning my name_ dude, what is that??? Is that -- _hot???"_

Dave takes a deep chug of his Mountain Dew, and promptly chokes in it. Dirk openly stares.

Karkat has so many fucking problems with so many of the things that are happening at this very moment, and he doesn’t know what to tackel first.

Dave’s awkward sexual rambling? Actually, that’s normal and Karkat is used to it. It’s irrelevant, honestly.

Dirk claiming one of his quadrants without asking him? And further, not saying _which quadrant?_ That’s it’s whole own fucking problem, because humans tend to lean red, and Karkat is _not doing that with Dirk._

And Dave??? Dave claiming to be NOT pale for him? Hold the fucking phone. What the fuck else would they be?

He doesn’t even know where to _start_ with this clusterfuck, and he’s reeling too hard to even bother being embarrassed by any of it.

He turns a sharp, narrowed eye on Dirk, and then back at Dave. “Why don’t you both tell me what the fuck you think is happening right now? Because clearly we aren’t on the same page.”

Both the Striders' postures go ramrod and tight as a bow, and they turn to look at each other, shades to shades. Dave inconspicuously wipes away mountain dew with his sleeve.

A small downturn of Dirk's head asks ' _what the fuck did I do wrong?_ ' To which a small cock to the side with a small twitch to Dave’s brows in a, ' _really dude, your huge computer brain can't figure that one out?_ ' To which Dirk obviously answers with a small shrug that says, ' _I'm baby._ '

Dave sighs out, biting his tongue, his cheeks stinging. 

"Uhhhh... I... Uh." What can he even say? What _is_ this situation? 

Dirk, seeing Dave struggle to even comprehend what's going on, sighs and shrugs a little, this time in a ' _you're all obviously idiots_ ' way. 

"Well, here's how I am interpreting this. I," he points to himself, "seduce you," Karkat, "at work. You get pissy cause I ... what, got too soft cause we're pitch, but then got angry when I left... So, like, I talked to you about it..." a small smirk, "then we... talked with our bodies..." He makes a crude motion with his hands. "Which Dave, your Moirail, overheard. And like, I interrupted your jam on accident or something, but whatever." 

He throws his hands up in a ' _and there you go_ ' motion, leaning his head back in a falsely relaxed motion, looking over to Dave and raises his eyebrows expectantly. 

"You _fucked at the coffeeshop_ ?!" Dave's face is red, but he thinks it's justified. "Holy shit- oh _god_ , how did you not get fired-..."

He shakes his head a little, looking over to Karkat and sighing. "Well--... _well_ , this is really fucking awkward. Like, I thought I knew awkward, but now I realize it was just a distant cousin, Ms. slightly uncomfortable, but today I'm meeting the real deal and I'm like oh shit, that sure makes me realize that this shit is more than slightly comfortable, you feel...?"

He sighs, continuing cautiously, "So, I thought we were Moirails, but then, like, obviously you didn't tell me you were... with _Bro_..." He looks to Karkat, sighing. "And then, well, I heard you... Go at it. Not so subtly..." He might die. This might really be how he dies. "And... And- ... Well, I didn't feel- I mean that's to say-" 

"You listened to us and then stripped your dick like five times." 

"BRO." 

"You already told us, this isn't a surprise." 

"Well-... _well_ ... Fuck, I'm sorry, that's probably so creepy, but I couldn't _help_ it when you literally went to the nearest other room and fucked my best bro!!!" 

"So yeah, there you have it, Kitten. How this lookin' to you?"

Okay.

Okay, right.

Stay rational, Karkat, you’ve got something to work with now.

Katkat turns to Dirk first, because at this point, somehow, he’s become the easiest to deal with. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he starts. “But I’m willing to recognize that you are, at least, trying. You clearly don’t know what pitch means, beyond a rough fuck, and we’re going to have to talk about it later. But for the record, leaving me alone was a dick move and I’m pissed at you for it.”

He leaves it at that-- being pissed. Because he _is_ pissed, but that doesn't mean he doesn’t still _want_ Dirk. They haven’t actually talked about their relationship status yet, but it seems like… they both want the same thing. So he’s not worried about that particular iron yet.

And that leaves… Dave. He doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to say to Dave.

He looks up at who he _thought_ was his moirail and furrows his brows. Slowly, he finds his voice again.

“...I didn’t tell you about Dirk, because it _just_ happened. I didn’t know how I felt yet, and honestly, I was too busy keeping my feelings for _you_ in check.”

Wait, shit, did he just say--

“I mean-- Fuck, Dave. _Fuck.”_

Trying to come up with the words to say what he needs to say is really hard with Dirk still sitting right there. He feels overexposed, but he’s already come this far, so he might as well just fucking say it.

“I’m…” he starts, and poetically, his cheeks flair with heat. “...flushed. For you.”

Dirk blinks behind his shades, seems to think it through, then nods seriously and gives Karkat a righteous thumbs up; that's fair enough. Karkat, being a troll, probably feels they need something more to their troll-relationship. 

He decides he will freak out and do a google-search binge _later_. Because doing so in front of his lil' bro and his hate-mate is hella un-cool, and he already was let off the hook pretty easily. 

Now he will just see his lil bro sweat his balls off, because holy shit he thought _he_ was a mess!! Dirk gives Dave a small little cat-call; good for him, being in the flush with Karkat. Good luck. 

Dave, of course, _is an absolute mess_. 

Did he just get fucking _confessed to_? Is that what happened? He should pinch himself in the arm; no. He should stub his pinkie toe against something, the ultimate pain to see if this is the ultimate dream. 

He does neither of these things. He stands, stock still, letting the words wash over him again and again in his brain. _Flushed. For you._ Oh my god. 

OH MY GOD. 

A small shiver goes through him, and he squeezes his bottle so hard it crackles again. "A- Y- m-." He makes some more sounds, the beginning of sentences that want out, but they're all stuck in his throat, and thank god. 

_Thank God_. 

"Karkat-..." He staggers over to him, dropping his bottle to hover his hands supremely awkwardly over his shoulders, maybe just a tad shaky. "Oh my god, please tell me you're not joking because I was _not_ joking just now, I literally heard you moan, and I was like, holy shit, welp, I guess we're going to boner town, and holy shit, what if you just wanted to be my platonic bro, I would have been so sad, I would have _cried_ Karkat, I would have cried like a baby, and you'd have patted me all pale-like, and I'd just cry more, and you'd be like holy shit what's even wrong bro, but it's like a continuous cycle because the more pale you are the more I cried, and the more you'd console me????"

He gently grabs onto Karkat's cheeks with both his hands, swallowing. "I... I'm ... full homo. For you. And like, I want to hear your moans, but I wanna be the one who makes them???" He seems to get an even darker shade of red. "If... you want that. But I think you do." 

He leans in to give Karkat the seal-the-deal-kiss, but ends up hesitating. 

Dirk, casually, grabs the back of both their heads, and quite gently presses the two of them together, a shiteating grin on his face. "And then they _kissed_. Aw. Isn't that a happy ending for all of us...?

Karkat is caught again, between being _so fucking happy_ that Dave is finally kissing him, and being _so fucking pissed_ that Dirk is teasing them like this.

He lets himself have the moment, enjoying the way Dave’s lips fit with his, as awkward as the whole situation is. He’s been waiting for this for too long, not to let himself _love it_ through all it’s faults. He’s melting and warm and _soft_ and God, Dave is just so good, no matter how much his trash mouth keeps running.

But then, when he’s pulling away, the hearts in his eyes snap to spades as he turns them on Dirk. He sits up on his knees and moves to look down on Dirk. A hand comes up to take Dirk’s cheek with a faux gentleness, before sliding up to fist hard in his hair. He tugs it back, forcing Dirk to crane his neck, and barrels down on him with all the heat of his anger.

“Don’t. Fucking. Interfere. You bastard.” The words are ground out between sharp teeth, a scowl painted onto his face. “How can you be so hot and _so very stupid_ at the same time?” For the first time, he’s really, truly threatening Dirk. He’s not actually going to hurt him, but it’s the thought that counts.

Dave is _his,_ not _theirs,_ and Dirk can keep his fucking hands to himself.

Dave is more confused than anything to feel a hand to the back of his head and Karkat's lips on his, but he figures fuck it, he is kissing Karkat and it's awesome and he never wants to stop- ... 

And then suddenly Karkat has turned his gaze to Dirk, eyes livid, teeth bared. That's kind of hot. Very hot when it's not directed at him, cause damn those teeth are sharp... 

So sharp... mmm... 

Oh, they're kissing now. Haha, Karkat called Dirk stupid. Finally people are catching on, he's been trying to get people to realize a long time now... 

They're... Matesprits now...? Wow. He's never had a matesprit before... He's mesmerized by the way Karkat's mouth opens and how Dirk's tongue slides in, how Dirk utters a tiny little sound Dave knows to be a moan when Karkat tugs his hair. Fuck.

Dirk grins into the kiss he initiated, his hand going straight for Karkat's grubscars, an easy target. "Shhh kitten. This is a happy occasion, isn't it?" He moans a little louder, loving the pain jolting through his scalp. "I'm a certified genius, you know? I'm allowed to be a _bit_ ignorant..." 

Without thinking about it, Dave reaches a hand out to rake through Karkat's hair, glasses askew and eyes intent on Karkat, red eyes flitting over Karkat's sideburns, his soft upper lip, his lowered eyelids and thick lashes. Wow. They're _matesprits_. 

And he's kissing another dude. Huh. "Wow... Can I kiss you too...?" He leans over to give Karkat a kiss on the cheek, almost shyly.

Their kiss is all teeth and tongues, and Karkat feels _good_ being in control of it. He knows they’ve kissed before, but somehow it feels like the first time. They’re not in the middle of heated session, or finishing, or doing it for any reason other than he _wants_ to. Because he’s angry, and he wants Dirk to know it.

But then Dave’s hand is in his hair, and he’s never gone so soft so quickly in all his life. The sweetest moan falls from his mouth and into Dirk’s. His brings the hand in Dirk’s hair down to grip at his chin and force him to stop. His fingers dig into Dirk’s cheeks as he turns him away, and Karkat turns his own head to face Dave.

“Please do,” he allows, and his eyes fall half lidded as he leans up to where Dave is standing. This time, their lips meld together perfectly. There’s no sharp bites or low growls, just the tentative press of lips and a searching tip of a tongue.

Karkat can’t help feeling that both of these moments should be happening separately, privately. This is a lot of firsts for him and Dave, specifically, and he doesn’t think Dirk deserves to see it. But also… Karkat wants both of them _right now_ and he doesn’t want to wait for either of them.

Quietly, between tender kisses, Karkat says, “Come on the couch, Dave…”

A jolt of arousal tears through Dirk as Karkat casually grips his chin to hold him off- wow, that's-... that makes him kind of _mad_ . But aroused. But he's angry that it makes him aroused cause _Karkat should be the one who's mad and aroused_. 

Still, it's fun to see Karkat go all soft and mushy with Dave, all sweet and careful; it's amazing Karkat can even juggle this! Dirk is definitely gonna tease him about this later... 

To keep himself busy, he starts rubbing his hands up and down Karkat's thighs, letting Karkat keep his hold on his face (it's... Okay, it's hot, _it's hot_ , he can admit it.) 

Then Karkat is inviting Dave on the couch, and they both meet shades to shades again... 

... 

They take off the shades. They look into each other's eyes, they have a bonding moment. They understand without even the tiniest of micro-expression. 

_No homo_. 

It's, of course, very homo. But they accept that yes, they want Karkat, they want him now, and yes, they are willing to share. They've always been willing to share.

Dave walks around to join them on the couch, gently scooching Karkat away from the end of it so he's between the Striders. Dave places a soft kiss on his neck. Them on a line like this is not as easily manageable as when he was standing, but it’s _nicer_. 

Dirk rakes his blunt human nails down Karkat's thigh, smirking despite the firm hold Karkat still has on him. "Can't be satisfied with one huh... I mean, I get it bro, Striders are fucking irresistible, I can understand... Come on, Kitten, let's show Dave what he's been missin' out on, hmm...? Bet he wants to hear your kitten mewls aaalmost as much as me..." 

He slides his hands back up under Karkat's shirt, thumbs firmly rubbing over a set of grub-scars, straining his head forward a little, licking his lower lip.

Fuck, Dirk’s hands on Karkat alone are a lot, so _four hands..._ With Dave pressed up behind him, Karkat’s body is forced in closer to Dirk’s. 

He’s already overwhelmed. He _asked_ for this, he literally just asked for it, but his mind can’t keep up between pitched and flushed feelings. He doesn’t know who he wants to lean into, who he wants to keep touching.

His grip goes lax on Dirk’s face, and he settles for clinging to the front of his shirt. One hand reaches back for Dave, for any part of him he can reach, landing on a thigh and squeezing with eager fingers.

He resigns to just… let it happen. Whatever either of them wants, he’s theirs. He’s both of theirs. Instead of being torn, he tries to sink into _both._ For a moment, he can’t say anything, stunned and grabbing onto each of them like he doesn’t know where to start.

“Someone needs to kiss me again,” he finally says, because his jaw aches with withdrawal. Nothing has even happened yet, and his chest is already starting to vibrate with the beginnings of a purr. 

Dirk is quick to steal the kiss, dipping in to crush their lips together, snaking his tongue in without further ado. He rakes the nails of his thumbs over the grubscars, their kiss quickly turning deep. Dirk closes his eyes and moans, possibly even _more_ turned on knowing that Dave is taking this in, hungry to see his boyfriend kissed. He can see the mesmerised look on his face, mouth slightly open in awe, eyes just a little wider than normal. To him, Dave looks starstruck. 

He locks eyes with Dave and smirks, tilting his head slightly to the side to slide his tongue a little deeper in, making a filthy slurp out of it because he _loves_ the dirty feeling it gives him. Almost casually, he guides Karkat's head to the side, leaving his neck wide open for Dave to abuse. 

It's obvious what Dirk wants to do, and Dave is reeling with it. One moment he's choking on Mountain Dew, in another he's seeing his bro make out with his new boyfriend and liking it... 

Shit. 

Not knowing better than to follow Dirk's lead, he leans in and rubs his lips against Karkat's neck, kissing him softly. As Dirk makes out filthily with his crush of at least some years, he starts kissing and breathing against Karkat's neck, trying to get an eyeful of their make-out sesh the best he can. 

Dave wraps his arms slowly around Karkat's waist, his hands slowly smoothing over that gorgeous, grey skin, briefly brushing over Bro's. Second to the party, eh. He seems busy though, better just slide his hands up and down Karkat's stomach slowly, just as slowly starting to melt into his actions, kisses against his Matesprit's neck becoming more sure of themselves.

"Mm, now Dave..." Dirk breaks the kiss tongue-last, saliva dripping between them in strings and breaking as they break apart. Dave nods obligingly, gently putting a hand to Karkat's forehead and making Karkat lean his head back to rest on his shoulder, then kisses Karkat gently, lapping a little at the strings of saliva still wetting Karkat's chin. Dirks hands focus more, squeezing his sides and pulling Karkat's hips a little towards his own. 

Now _this_ is a Strider sandwich…

The way Dirk kisses Karkat is so forcefully dirty, like he _wants_ it to be messy and wet, and Karkat almost can’t breathe around the tongue in his mouth. With Dave kissing at his neck at the same time, it’s so much, it leaves him light headed and completely breathless.

With both of their hands on his skin, his mind runs haywire, unable to focus on one thing at once. It’s such a simple touch to leave him so openly desperate. His nook is already dripping inside his underwear, and his bulge is begging to unfurl. The push and pull between the two Strider boys has him feeling like nothing more than a doll to be played with.

When Dirk passes him back to Dave, the whiplash between biting kisses to sweet ones is enough to jump start the rumbling in his chest. It’s somewhere between a purr and a growl, and he melts back into Dave’s chest. Absently, he grinds his ass back into Dave’s crotch, trying to regain some control over the situation.

He can’t just… let them both use him like this. As much as his heart is racing, and he _wants_ to be used, he’s still a big part of this, and he needs to make sure they’re feeling good, too. The hand he’s still gripping Dave’s thigh with squeezes as he grinds back again, moaning Dave’s name in between kisses.

One thing at a time, Karkat, just focus.

With slightly trembling hands, he brings both back to himself and starts to peel his shirt up. It forces him to break from Dave’s kiss with a whine, his purrs only getting louder with his mouth free. He manages to get the shirt off, though, and drops it on the floor without a fucking care.

Immediately, he presses back into Dave again and reaches for Dirk, wanting to pull him back into his neck.

Strider hands are on Karkat immediately, feeling up his chest and sides, some smoothing up to his clavicle and down, some pinching at his grubscars, some sliding down to play with the hem of his pants, fingers dipping into it, one hand pleading, one hand demanding. 

Then one hand guides Karkat's head back onto Dave's shoulder, and Dave melds their mouths together, sloppier but still sweet, the younger blonde inspired by Dirk to make it a little messy. Their tongues do a slow-dance in Karkat's mouth, heavy, slow swirls. 

Dave's hips bucks back against Karkat, and his moan turns a little high-pitched; _fuck_ ... Fuck, Karkat wants-- _that_. Wants them to... "Ohh, Karkat-..." His voice is just a breath into Karkat's mouth, then he's back to kissing. 

Both the Striders seems more than thrilled at Karkat's purrs. Dirk has a hand on Karkat's chest, feeling at the vibration while he starts tackling Karkat's neck, moan deep and satisfied; fuck, the marks are still there, and that's _so_ hot.... 

His other hand moves down to cup at Karkat's crotch, giving it a firm rub. "Fuck, Karkat... You're _soaked_ ... Are you that turned on, Kitten..?" He laps at Karkat's neck, but he _can't help himself_. He bites down on the mark he left, rubbing Karkat's still clothed crotch in time with the rhythm Karkat and Dave are setting. Damn, they're probably going to fuck like bunnies after today, aren't they…

Karkat gasps and squirms under Dirk’s teeth when they sink right back into where he’s already tender. _Fuck,_ he almost forgot that he was all bruised up from the day before. He probably won’t have the same stamina again, this soon after a thing like… _that._ He knows Dirk won’t let him forget, though.

His hips stutter where they grind back against Dave, jerking up into Dirk’s palm. It’s _maddening,_ being this wet and only getting the rough slide of fabric over his nook. He craves that skin on skin, the slick slide of Dirk’s fingers through his material, and he’s whining and squirming again, too strung out to even know what to do with himself.

Suddenly, he’s embarrassed by how easily Dirk is pulling him apart, right in front of Dave. Dave has never seen him like this before and it’s… a lot. It’s killing him that he doesn’t know what Dave is thinking, and Dirk saying that they should _show him_ is… a very very good idea. He fucking loves that idea. Thinking about Dave _alone_ while Dirk was eating him out was enough to make him cum, so Dave actually _being here…_

He cracks dazed eyes open to look at Dirk, meeting eye to eye without his shades in the way, and gives the smallest nod. Agreeing to whatever is Dirk is planning, because he doesn’t actually care. He trust Dirk, at this point, and he can leave it at that.

Gently, he pulls himself out of their holds, wiggling around until he can turn around on Dave. He stays sat up on his knees, straddled over Dave’s lap, with just enough space between them for Dirk to fit his hands in. He wraps his arms around Dave’s neck and dives right back in for another kiss.

It’s _so much better_ from here, being able to fully pour himself into Dave head on, instead of trying to crane his neck. He sucks and nips at Dave’s lips, teeth careful, but still finally letting out years of pent up passion. He licks into Dave’s mouth and his purrs vibrate even harder, mixing with little wet chirps and needy noises.

Not surprisingly, Dave _melts_ under Karkat, a moan coming from deep in his chest; Karkat is _such_ a good kisser; not that Dave has never kissed before, he has, but with Karkat's it's just... 

It's just _better_ . It's _perfect_. 

Hands immediately go up to hold at Karkat's now exposed sides, and wow, Karkat is _shirtless_. And while he now only has an eyeful of beautiful Karkat eyes, he saw the marks. Dark marks from his bro nailing Karkat so hard they got actual noise complaints... 

Dazedly and more than a little curiously, he starts feeling up Karkat's grubscars, fingers patting and rubbing and stroking at them, fascinated by the texture of them, knowing they're at least somewhat sensitive. 

"Mmm..." He doesn't even want to close his eyes, he wants to see Karkat's _everything_ , wants to see every reaction and twitch and dilation of his pupils. 

Dirk leans forwards and kisses at the back of Karkat's neck, immediately sliding his hands around so they're between Dave and Karkat's stomachs, and _down_ , directly into Karkat's underwear. His fingers meet _wet_ , and he groans as well, almost exactly like Dave just did. 

"Fuck, you're so wet... These pants needs to be _off_." He pants down Karkat's back, placing small nips here and there as he pleases, unbuttoning his pants with efficient little bends of his wrist and a tug down for the zipper. 

Almost teasingly, he slides his hands down Karkat's hips and into his underwear, sliding down his underwear like that, nice and slow, letting the reds have their cute little moment.

 _'Don't mind me while I strip the pants off your boyfriend, Dave,'_ he snarks in his mind, but then blinks cause.. Well, _he_ is Karkat's boyfriend, too. 

Huh. What a mind-fuck. Quadrants are weird. 

He goes back to his task, sliding Karkat's underwear to is knees, hands sliding back up his thighs, fingers greedily biting into his inner thighs, raking his nails over them.

" _So_ wet, Kitten... Wish I could lick it all up, but you're probably sore from last time, hmm...?" He grins, patting Karkat's knee so he can pull the pants completely off him, leave him a bit more mobile. 

Dave helps, a hand coming up to hold the back of Karkat's head, not letting him move back from their deep kiss to kick them off, holding their heads steady enough so their teeth don't clack together. 

So helpful. 

Yeah, Dave knows what's up. Good on him, dude. 

When Dirk manages to tug the pants completely off he scoots back a little, appreciating the view; Dave, still fully clothed, one hand in Karkat's hair and one fingering at Karkat's scars, the slick sound of them kissing and the soft moans spilling from them both.. Damn. 

He wishes he had his camera. 

Instead, he digs into the couch-pillow, finding his trusty lil' bottle of lube. Pops it open and pours it from the middle of Karkat's back and letting it slide down, opening up his cheeks to let it slide between there, getting him nice and lubed up 

The couch is going to be ruined anyway; might as well make this proper sloppy.

Karkat loves every second of the way that Dave kisses him. It’s so different from the way Dirk kisses him, not that Dirk’s kisses aren’t _deadly,_ it’s just… _different._ He could get lost in Dave’s mouth alone for hours... And probably will in the future.

The teases and caresses of his grubscars are nice, and it rides high on top of the way Dirk’s fingers slide between the swollen, wet folds of his nook. _God,_ Dirk wasn’t wrong when he assumed that Karkat was sore. He is sore, he’s still aching in places he never knew he could ache, and his nook is puffy and abused. But he still wants more, he _needs_ more.

When he’s left naked and exposed in Dave’s lap, the last thing he’s expecting is the ice cold drizzle of lube down his back and between his cheeks. It makes him yelp and jerk his body closer to Dave’s, trying to escape the chill.

“Fuck, Dirk…” he manages between searing kisses. His tone is warning, a threat, that he better have a good fucking reason for icing him out when he’s got _more than enough_ material to keep him slick. But then Dirk’s hands are on his ass, thumbing his cheeks open and he moans a shocked noise into Dave’s mouth. 

He’s so close to Dave’s body now, hugging him, kissing him so hard, naked torso pressed flush against his new matesprite. His bulge twists and tangles with the hem of Dave’s shirt, desperate for something to hold onto. The fabric just… is not even close to right, though, and it makes him whine with frustration. Material drips from him and into Dave’s lap, probably soaking right through into Dave’s skin.

Dave makes an aborted little noise in Karkat's mouth in response, his hands tightening his hold as Karkat jolts, confused since he was literally just feeling up his beautiful boyfriend- 

Ah. Dirk. He's doing something, huh...? An unchecked moan, slips into Karkat's mouth as well at the thought, and weirdly enough he's a little glad he doesn't have to worry so much about wrecking Karkat; Dirk is doing that all on his own. 

Instead, he tries soothing him; raking his hand through Karkat's hair slowly, thumb stroking against his side, then he holds his hand at the back of Karkat's head again, cradling the nape of it lovingly. 

When he feels his stomach getting moist from Karkat's juices, he dumbly realizes that yeah, Karkat is _naked_ in front of him... Holy shit. When did this happen..? 

Maybe he should lose a layer or two also... The hand on Karkat's hip goes down to pop open his jeans; but it's too much work to sit up and pull his pants off, especially when Karkat is kneeling over him like this, kissing him... 

He wants to grab onto Karkat's wriggly, but chickens out. Instead he brings his hand to slide up Karkat's back and- "Ew- whashhthish-" smears the lube upwards a little. 

He looks over his matesprit's shoulder, sees Dirk holding out the tube for him, then makes a little 'o' with his mouth. 

Instead of wasting it, he slicks up his dick instead, moaning at finally being able to touch himself. 

"Mmhuhh, Karkat..." He whimpers into the kiss a little, sitting upwards and trying to deepen the kiss even more, scritching at the shorter, softer hair at his hairline, his dick jumping. 

Fuck, but they're cute, Dirk thinks. Look at those soft little dorks, mewling and murmuring and purring and _ugh_. 

Too soft. It needs _spice_. 

Dirk moves up behind Karkat, forcing his and Dave's chests to rub together a bit more firmly.

He leans in to murmur into Karkat's ear, breath washing over both him and Dave. "You seemed to like me fingering your ass last time, so I figured the three of us might try something fun, kittycat...?" 

He moves a hand down Karkat's back, purposefully scraping up some lube to get his fingers wet, then starts rubbing firmly against his wrinkled pucker.

"Do you like that idea, hmm..?" he continues. "The idea of both of us fucking you at the same time...? That what you liked thinking about last time, the two of us fucking you and you _taking it_ , being stuffed full of human dick...?" He nibbles on Karkat's earlobe, a happy hum vibrating in his chest. 

"I think that's really hot... If I knew you were a slut I'd have fucked you a long time ago..."

Karkat ends up squarely smashed between the two Striders, between his two _lovers,_ and it’s all he can do to whimper at Dirk’s words. His body is hot, excited, and his bulge continues to thrash for something to tangle with. It finds Dave’s wrist-- his wrist? Why not just his dick? Ugh-- and quickly wraps itself around it. It squeezes tight, and makes him shudder, makes his nook clench down around nothing.

His head hangs shamefully now, down into Dave’s shoulder as he clings to him. He should be embarrassed about Dirk talking to him like that in front of Dave. Embarrassed to let Dave see that he _likes it._ But he can’t say no to Dirk right now, not when Dirk has promised…

Fuck, what did he just promise???? Both holes??

It’s unheard of. It’s so lewd and so nasty, it makes Karkat’s fingers grip tighter into Dave’s shirt. He’s never had… _anything_ other than Dirk’s fingers in his chute, so it seems like a pretty big fucking leap to go for both at once.

He can’t deny that it sounds… amazing, though. He wants to give Dirk anything he wants, he wants to be _good._ And he wants nothing more than for Dave to finally touch him, which... Dave hasn’t really done yet? Well, he’s touched him… but Karkat wants him to _touch_ him.

Karkat nods his head furiously, forehead still pressed into Dave’s shoulder so he won’t have to see Dave’s eyes when he talks. “Do it, Dirk…” he allows, voice small and dreamy under his purring. He pushes his hips back, forcing Dirk’s prodding finger harder against his chute’s sensitive hole. It makes him hum pleasantly and turn his face into Dave’s neck with a sigh.

“Please…” he asks, bulge tightening around Dave’s wrist with the shame of it all. “Need you…”

Dirk feels his pulse beat harder, and he grins, excited. Fuck, he's really making Karkat the biggest slut he could be, huh? 

It's a fucking honor, cpt. Vant-ass. I will service your hole till it fucking collapses. 

He slips a finger in without much thought, knowing that Karkat can take it. He was practically begging for it anyway, with the way he was pressing back. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought, Kitten... You're so good for me, for _us_ , aren't you..." He licks and nibbles on the skin under his ear, his face very close to Dave's now that Karkat has his face buried in his neck. 

Their eyes lock, and Dirk smirks a little; is this weird to Dave...? Personally he was having the fucking time of his life, though. 

Dirk also thinks Dave is being a little too passive about this though. Probably all star-struck that he gets to be with Karkat, if he knows him right. 

"Your boyfriend seems to be begging you to play with'im, lil bro." He unlatches from Karkat's neck, murmuring softly, Dirk and Dave's breath mingling a little from the proximity, "How about you get a feel of that beautiful puss, hmm...? I'll let you have it for now, baby boy, it being y’all's first time an' all..." He smirks, not pulling back to give Dave space, stuffing another finger inside Karkat and starting to stroke, slowly scissoring his fingers and feeling him clench wonderfully around his fingers. 

Fuck, it's going to be so tight...

Dave is indeed reeling, so intent on mentally writing prose about Karkat's mouth to notice that his two other partners are moving along to second, third and homebase touchdown. 

He stares into Dirk's eyes, the words sinking into him, dripping in hot trails over the coil in his gut, making him mouth out breathlessly.

"--it's called a nook," he murmurs dumbly, but complies. He has one hand that's suddenly grabbed by Karkat's bulge, (tentacle dick, _tentacle dick_ , oh _God_ he wants to think about that a _lot more_ ), so he moves his other hand down between Karkat's legs, fingers sliding between his folds with a soft, wet sound. 

"Oh god, Karkat, you're so wet-..." Dave saying it is very different from Dirk saying it; all awed and _god damned happy_ , a finger slipping inside Karkat almost by accident, and he gives off a very soft gasp. "So _soft_ ... Fuck, Karkat, I want you so much-" he actually sounds a little choked up, but he tries to calm himself when he sees Dirk roll his eyes; chill, Dave, damn. It's just _sex_... 

Sex with _Karkat_. 

Okay, honestly, calm the _fuck_ down. 

He starts exploring Karkat's nook carefully, it taking him a while before he realizes, no, it's not Karkat's alien pussy ( _nook_ ), but Dirk's fingers he can feel moving with him-... Oh _god_... 

They were actually serious about that... Fuck. 

He feels in over his head. He's not sure if he actually minds. 

"You're so beautiful, Karkat-.." He gives Karkat's bulge an almost asking squeeze, rubbing his face against Karkat's hair, kissing a horn.

With _both_ of their fingers in him now, Karkat is… he’s… he’s fucking trembling with the weight of his own purrs. His fingers flex and clench at Dave’s back, dying to dig in and give himself some purchase, but his claws aren’t for Dave… It’s the only part of turning to face Dave that he regrets. He can already tell that he’s going to need _something_ to tear into very soon.

It’s a very different feeling, having Dirk’s fingers stuffed inside him the way they are, from the way it was the last time. He’s not hyper stimulated and caught up in his third orgasm, this time, so he can _really_ feel it. It’s weird, it’s slightly uncomfortable, but not… bad. It should probably hurt more, but Dave’s fingers finally coming down to slip between his nook are enough to make him forget about how disgusted he should be.

He’s vaguely aware of Dirk being the one to tell Dave what to do, and he’s… not sure how he feels about that. Maybe he’s come to terms with letting Dirk talk that way to _him,_ but it almost…

Almost makes him jealous. That he’s even giving Dave the time of day right now, instead of focusing all of his attention on Karkat.

He wraps his arms tighter around Dave, protective, digging his agitated claws into the palms of his own hands. He tucks into Dave’s neck in a way that allows him to glare back at Dirk.

“I liked you better when you couldn’t talk,” he snaps, but honestly, it doesn’t come out as aggressively as he wants it to. He’s short on breath, and the moaning lilt to his voice doesn’t exactly make him sound threatening.

His hips twitch with every bend of their fingers, and he wants to thrust back, but he doesn’t know which way to _go._ They’re both moving in different directions, curling in opposite ways, and it’s making him weak. His thighs are tense where he’s straddled over Dave’s, still dripping in wet splashes with every shove and bend.

And _then…_ Then Dirk does _something_ that makes him makes him gasp and slip into more of a growl than a purr. His teeth grit with the effort it takes not to rip at Dave. He’s _mad_ that Dirk can make him this way, it’s not fucking fair. How can a human know how to play with him so well??

He cracks his eyes open again, giving Dirk the same heated look, low rumble threatening. _Daring_ him to do… well, Karkat doesn’t know. He’s just been far too easy, so far, not to start start throwing a fit now. He’ll be good, but only if he’s _made_ to.

Oh? Did that make Dirk’s little kitty hiss...? 

"Oh, sugargrub, I could just _eat you up_ ." He grins, holding Karkat's gaze as he leans forward to nibble on the shell of Karkat's other ear, jabbing his fingers in _hard_ and twisting, purring into his eat almost threateningly, 

"One day I'm going to make you _come on command_ , you filthy little shit. Make you come with my voice."

He starts rubbing in earnest, trying to see if he can rub against the walls in a way that can push against something in his nook. Not that he really thinks it'll be easy, but he's read some forums. Either way, it's a good thing to get him stretched well enough. 

He's gonna need it, tight as he is. 

"Need something to sink your claws in, kittycat...? Look at you, trying to be all soft for Dave... You're just _too pitch for me_ aren't you...?" 

He thinks about it a moment, then pulls his fingers out with a hum. He grabs Karkat's arm, looking over to Dave. "We need to lie down... Karkat is missing these Gucci lips." 

He and Dave expertly pulls out the extra part of their pull-out-couch, then simply fall sideways with the troll, holding him steady. 

Dirk is quick to push Karkat's leg over Dave's hip, automatically opening up for Dirk to continue plunging his fingers deep into his ass. 

"Keep playing with him... Need another finger in him before we can _really_ get down to business." He twists Karkat's upper body towards him, grinning with all his teeth, then leans in and croons against Karkat's lips,

"There we go..."he says, then licks his cheek, purely to annoy and disgust him. "If you wanna shut me up, get that tongue moving." 

He pushes into Karkat at a harder pace, threatening with a third finger already, pressing at his rim now and then.

Dave, still positively reeling, simply follows Dirk's order, continuing to slip his finger into Karkat, adding another one and groaning; he feels absolutely useless, but fuck if what little he does doesn't feel _good_. 

When Karkat turns to face Dirk, it leave Karkat’s neck and chest on full display for him, so he happily starts sucking and licking at the skin there, trying to suck where Karkat's nipples would be, lathering his tongue all over the expanse of skin given to him. 

Right now, just knowing that Karkat is having the time of his life is _amazing_. He honestly might come from that alone.

Karkat _hates_ that Dirk can read him so easily. He lets them manhandle him into a laying down position, twists between the two, and it feels _so much better than it should_ to finally sink his nails into Dirk’s back. He claws across Dirk’s shoulder blade with one hand, groaning as the fabric of his shirt bunches up between his fingers.

He kisses Dirk violently, biting at his lips and tongue with sharp teeth. He’s _mad,_ and he’s _horny,_ and none of it is fucking fair.

He still doesn’t know where he wants to direct his attention. He wants both of them _so badly_ and mauling Dirk almost feels wrong while Dave has to lie there and watch it.

But then again… Dave liked just _listening_ to them enough to get off on it, so maybe he likes to watch?

With his thigh hiked up over Dave’s hip, it’s easier for his bulge to find and wrap around Dave’s dick. It squeezes and pulls, snaking around it and back again, like a kiss from an extra long tongue. The slide of it is _so much,_ with both of his holes stuffed full of fingers, and he growls at Dirk again for making him fucking wait.

He catches Dirk’s bottom lip with his teeth and huffs at him, eyes clouded with aggressive lust as he glares at him some more. “Get on with it, before I change my mind,” he threatens on a hiss. Dirk’s fingers are starting to feel a lot better than he ever thought they would, and he’s mad about that, too. Mad that Dirk can give him things he doesn’t even know he wants.

His nook and his chute chelch in tandem, sucking fingers in and feeling them settle deeply. He has to stop and catch a broken breath, turning to whine for Dave again. His lips may or may not have Dirk’s blood on them as he kisses Dave desperately. His eyes are closed tight, his mouth pleading with Dave to make Dirk _behave._

It's with a slightly shaky moan that Dirk pushes in the third finger, feeling droplets of blood tickling where Karkat's claws has been raking or pricking into him. 

Fuck yeah. A part of him imagined that once Karkat got nice and soft with Dave, he'd rather have that; but here Karkat is, seeming to love Dave's attention, sure, but also dying to get Dirk inside him, responding to him so well, _wanting him_ still. 

So it leaves Dirk a little smitten. Who can blame him? 

He licks at his bloody lips, the taste sending another shot of flame down to his stomach; hell yeah. He wants to _fightfuck_ Karkat, but the situation won't really allow it. Another time. He really wants to see Karkat fight for it, use his muscles and wit to try to outdo him. 

Karkat wouldn't have managed it, of course, but it would be so hot to see him struggle. See the fight leave his eyes and replace it with lust...

Okay, damn, getting distracted. There's plenty hot to be served at _this_ table as well. 

He twists his fingers, forcing in more lube to slick up the passage better, his free hand pinching at a grubscar _hard_. He groans hotly at the thought of sinking into Karkat, feel Dave's dick fucking Karkat thorough a thin membrane... 

Shit. He refrains from grabbing his dick just so he won't fly off the handle early. 

Dave sighs in relief as they start kissing again, vaguely thinking that the blood is excessive, but he can't bother to rise a complaint; he's not one to go against his bro, and honestly what's been happening so far has been _really_ hot... 

With his dick being squeezed and milked by Karkat's bulge he lets out a surprised little shout into Karkat's mouth, making Dirk snicker quietly into Karkat's neck. 

Dave loves how _affected_ Karkat is. The way his breath hitches, the way his chest heaves. He's so cute, so _horribly_ charming, it makes his heart ache.

"Kiss me more, baby-..." He gently grabs Karkat's jaw to hold him there, figuring that more than challenging Dirk, distracting Karkat is the way to go. 

Dirk sees right through him of course, and enjoys the sight of Dave sucking Dirk's blood off his tongue. Good on him. Let him enjoy the experience for what it is, which is another round of Dirk ownage. 

He keeps stretching at Karkat's chute until he really can't control himself anymore, then rips his fingers out, tugging open his own jeans, taking his cock out with a slightly shaky groan. 

"Almost there, Kitten... How do you want it, hmm...? Both at once...? Really give your body a shock...?" He starts lathering kisses and licks on the underside of Karkat's jaw, nosing Karkat's head back, holding his member against Karkat's hole, slapping his cock against it with wet little slaps.

Dave calling Karkat _baby_ makes his heart stutter and butterflies swarm around in his stomach. God, they really are matesprites, now, aren’t they? He hasn’t really had a chance to appreciate that fact properly yet, with Dirk constantly pulling him in the other direction.

For a moment, though… Karkat is so wrapped up in it, so warm and so full with Dave’s mouth on his. He almost doesn’t even hear what Dirk says to him, until suddenly there’s something much hotter and thicker than fingers pressing up against his chute.

He moans shamelessly and thrusts back into it, forcing Dirk inside before either of them is ready for it.

“Ah, fuck-- _Fuck!”_ Karkat curses. His purring is abruptly cut short, and he can’t _breathe._

Okay, _now_ it hurts. The shock leaves him shaking, his bulge overstimulated enough to jerk away from Dave, to shrink in flat against his stomach. One hand claws at Dirk’s back, one hand fists in Dave’s hair. His back arches and his whole body strains tight like a bow as he tries to get used to the _frankly too big_ thing stuffed into his chute.

“D- Dah… Nnn…”

His eyes are screwed shut so tight, and he’s not even sure if he’s trying to say Dirk or Dave. His body spasms several more times, very nearly being pushed over the edge by the painful intrusion on it’s own.

But then, as his body finally starts to relax, and he’s only trembling _a little,_ he hides his face in Dave’s neck again. His face is hot with indignity, unable to _believe_ how fucking bold Dirk is, how disgusting and primal. And how much Karkat’s body fucking loves it.

Slowly, his bulge relaxes and starts to worm gently against Dave’s body. He still wants Dave inside him, too, even if Dirk is too much. It’s too much, but it’s not enough, and Karkat doesn’t want to have to _say it._

So instead, his leg hitches tighter around Dave, pulling him in closer, letting his dick nestle right up against his too wet nook. He breathes Dave’s name into his neck, hoping that it’s enough to get him to understand.

_He doesn’t want to have to say it._

" _Fuck_ -" Dirk will never admit that it came out as a yelp, but Dave's brows shoot up either way. 

_Shit_ , but it's tight. Karkat's chute is hot and tight, but when he moves a little the drag is smooth and sinfully plush, hugging against him in a way his toys aren't able to replicate. He hunches forward a little, forcing himself to stay still, knowing that if he starts fucking into him now his shoulder will _really_ pay for it. 

Or... Will it...? He sees the way Karkat scooches forwards, but it's not to get away from him-- he feels the warm poke of Dave's junk brushing against his own, and a hot wave of dizzy arousal hits him like a brick to the face. 

"Oh _kitty_ ..." Hands grab at Karkat's sides, fingers digging into as many of the scars as he can, hard enough for it to hurt. "You needy fucking _bitch_ , you- _god._.." He grabs Karkat's hair and pulls him towards himself, sloppily licking at his ear, biting it none-too-gently. 

He's not going to hide away from this. Dirk won't let him. He grips Karkat's hair in a way that he has to face Dave, probably red in the face, mouth open and gasping. "You're so filthy... Fuck, I'm so fucking luck-... I'm so fucking horny for you, _I can't wait to feel you stuffed to the brim_ ... And you can't wait either, can you...? Want it so bad you're _shaking_..." 

He gives a slow, languid roll of his hips, not caring if it makes Karkat's insides burn; maybe it should. It's what he fucking wants, apparently. 

"Put your dick in, Dave." It books no argument. 

So Dave doesn't argue. 

With the help of a hand, he lines against Karkat's nook, staring at Karkat's face, seeing how wrecked he is, how- how _helpless_. 

Same, Karkat. Same. 

His knuckles brush against Dirk's balls, and they both make a little sound, and then Dave pushes _in_.

The tightness is almost _too much_ . He gasps and looks down, wanting to see his dick slowly disappear into Karkat, see the way red is pushed out of him and drips onto the couch. Wants to see Dirk's legs, see how he shifts to accommodate a third person to the tango, how he shifts closer and how Karkat's and his chests bump into each other and closes his window to the delicious sight, the three of them so close he can almost feel _Dirk_ breathe.

Then he's kissing Karkat again, a desperate, wet thing, and he gives off a thrust, because his body _demands_ it, and he feels it when Dirk pulls back and _in_ again, and _this can't be real_. 

His hands scramble to hold, to pull closer, and he thinks for a moment that he should really play with Karkat's bulge, but they're too close, rubbing against each other with every push and pull.

The way Dirk yanks Karkat back by the hair makes him feel weak and absolutely exposed. It’s impossible, how stuffed full he is. He feels like he’s going to split completely in two, tear all the way up to his chest, and he still can’t _breathe._

He’s gasping and trying to cling to each of them, but he can’t seem to get his hands to work. There are tears in his eyes and he can’t even return the kiss that Dave is trying to give him.

“A-hh… _fuck...”_ he gasps, and it’s so breathy, and he can’t _hear his own voice._

If he weren’t still sore from the day before, he would still be fucking wrecked in this very moment. He’s hot with shame and he’s feeling too much all at once.

He’s _lost._

Even the shallow way his two boyfriends thrust inside him leaves him overstimulated and raw, and he can’t imagine them even _trying_ to go harder. Their dicks rub together so close inside him that he honestly can’t tell where his chute ends and his nook begins. It all blurs together and it’s just…

So good.

It’s so good, he can’t fucking stand it.

He tugs against the hand in his hair, trying to curl in on himself. He feels pulled tight like a rubber band, being forced to stay so open and vulnerable. The tears in his eyes threaten to fall at any second, and he has no idea how he hasn’t cum already.

Both Striders moan at Karkat's reaction, both of them rutting shallowly into him, trying to help Karkat get used to the overwhelming feeling of having two large dicks buried deep inside him. 

Dirk, of course, breaks first, and starts slowly fucking in and out of him, holding Karkat's head firm, breathing out a shaky chuckle; the way Dave keeps desperately sloppily licking and sucking at his boyfriend's mouth, not realizing how much Karkat wants to hide, wants bury himself in Dave's neck again and hide how much this is affecting him. 

"Yeahh... Fuck, can you feel us, Karkat...? Rubbing against each other...?" He licks teasingly gently at Karkat's neck, pushing himself back in firmly. "Can feel Dave... Like we're sharing a cocksleeve..." 

Dave makes an affronted sound, but Dirk just thrusts in and out again, and Dave shudders and shuts up. Good boy. 

"God.. Need me to push you more, give your wriggly some attention...? Use your words, sugartits, how are you holding up, hmm...?" 

He has an idea, of course. He's feeling _great_ , with a side of _too much_. 

Honestly, working Karkat over is _easy_ . He grins sleazily, looking to Dave. He's pretty fucking easy too. He could probably make them do _anything_. 

Unsurprisingly, he's excited to try it out. Importantly, not today, as said. Since he's being a gentleman and letting them have their first time somewhat vanilla. 

He's just _awesome_ like that.

Karkat struggles to speak, but he wants to, he _has_ to, because Dirk asked him to…

“...f-fu…” He has to stop to swallow the lump in his throat. “...full…” he manages to say, because it’s all he can think about, how stuffed full he is. It consumes him, makes him _ache._ And Dirk starting to actually fuck into him is what finally makes the tears start to fall.

Every push of Dirk’s cock inside him pushes _Dave’s_ into his sweetest spots, and it makes him choke out a whine and wet little mewls. He’s so wet, and it just keeps coming, material leaking out over all three of them.

He’s going to _break._ He doesn’t have it in him anymore, after how worn out he was left the day before. Both his holes spasm in tandem, squeezing the Striders in, making him _sob._

He doesn’t have the coherency anymore to be embarrassed about Dave seeing him like this. He can’t think or move or do anything but _want._ He wants more, wants both of them, wants to _cum,_ and GOD he is so head over heels for both of them.

A weak purr starts up again, deep in his chest. Instead of trying to pull away from the firm hold in his hair, he leans into it. He twists his body, keening at the way it makes everything _shift, t_ o try and face Dirk again.

He’s falling apart and he needs to know that he’s going to be okay, but he can’t say it. He can’t express how much he _needs_ to be given a gentle hand, a kiss, anything to ground him before he fucking looses it.

When Karkat starts crying it _tugs_ at Dave's heartstrings. Somehow it feels wrong, seeing Karkat so overworked... Then why does it also feel _so fucking good_...? 

He feels the start of guilt gnaw at him, arms coming up to soothe at Karkat's chest, smoothing over it lovingly. 

"Karkat-... babe, oh, please don't cry..." He gently helps Karkat move his head the way he wants, looking up from his chest-worship to see how Dirk and Karkat kiss; Dirk going hard first, but slowly letting it simmer into something more passionate instead, Dirk fucking his tongue into Karkat's mouth in tandem with his thrusts. 

Shit. His thrusts... He can feel every move Dirk makes, how it rubs against his own cock, how Dirk _moans_ when they do... 

Instead of joining in on the thrusting, Dave decides he'll be the sweet to Dirk's salt; he kisses and soothes at Karkat, murmuring soft encouragements. "You feel so good, Karkat-... Love your purr, love how you purr for me, darling..." He manages to ignore Dirk's snort, only blushing a little bit. 

"Never seen you this hot, _fuck_ , I'm about to melt..." 

Dirk silently agrees, though he keeps it a lot less .... _terribly cheesy_. Instead, he .. lets the demanding kiss he gives Karkat soften. Lets Karkat taste and lick the blood he has on them, but not initiating more biting ones. 

He fucks hard and firm, but doesn't honestly feel the need to scratch and bite at him. 

Fuck, he's making this mushy... This is out of character... Ugh. Whatever. 

He's close to coming anyway. 

He listens in on the sappy shit Dave spews out of his mouth, wondering where the fuck he got that from. Seems to work well enough; between them, Karkat is twitching and jerking and mewling like a common whore , and it's really fucking hot.

Breathlessly, he asks into Karkat's mouth, almost to himself, "Think you're gonna come-- before or after we come in you, Kitten...?"

With Dave kissing at his skin, and Dirk so sweetly licking into his mouth, Karkat feels infinitely fuller. His heart races and swells, and it somehow only makes him cry harder.

It’s a quiet cry now, though. Silent tears as he lets himself be overwhelmed with affections and brutal sexual feeling.

At Dirk’s words, Karkat can only give a small whimper in response. Maybe humans don’t cum as much as trolls do, but it’s _sticky_ and it _stays_ when Dirk cums in him. And… Dirk and Dave doing it at the same time? He definitely needs to hold out for that. He wants to feel it squishing around in him before he finishes.

There’s no pain anymore, only the wet, lewd slide of their cocks in and out of him. It’s incessant, rubs him _just the right way,_ and honestly, he could die happy like this. Wrapped up in both their arms. Both their mouths on him. Both their hands on him. Both their cocks inside him.

He manages to break the kiss enough to murmur, “Want it…” and then catch Dirk’s lip between his teeth again. His useless hands find their purchase, clinging to each of them. “Pleas e…”

Oh he _really_ wants that... That's so... God, Karkat is so filthy, Dirk is maybe a little in love with it. He doubts there's many who'd let this much slide, but Karkat seems _insatiable_. 

He sighs a soft moan as Karkat bites his lip again, stinging pain from the still slowly bleeding little cuts.

There's a moment where he contemplates pushing Dave on his back, have Karkat's sandwiched between them as he fucks into Karkat hard, make him shout and yowl and _cry_ some more; make him come and then _still go on_ , letting him sob and wriggle between them like a fucking worm, unable to get out-... 

But this is still... Fuck, yeah, the way Karkat is hungering for the both of them, the way he can't decide who he wants to kiss more... The way Dave is sucking on Karkat's tits like he's expecting milk to come out, for fucks sake, it's the perfect blend between Dave's desperate want for closeness and his own want for _carnage_ , he... Doesn't want to ruin this. 

And anyway, from the way they're both mewling like pathetic little kittens, there's no way there's _not_ going to be an encore. 

He hopes they become addicted to him. 

Dirk fucks into Karkat harder, skin slapping against skin at the force. "Are you close, then...?" His own abdomen is aching, tight, and he's starting to sweat at the exertion, his breath coming out tighter, not quite panting but he's definitely not at resting pulse. 

"Cause I could come in you any second if you wanted to... Fuck that creamy white in you just like you wanted..." He looks to Dave, taking in his red, similarly exerted face. "And Dave's close too... He'd _love_ to come inside your pretty alien pussy, isn't that right, Dave...?" 

Dave has been slowly starting to rock into Karkat as well, his hips moving without a thought, seeking more friction, more heat. He nods breathlessly, his mouth popping off Karkat's peck to beg, "Please, Karkat... You feel so good, baby, I won't last much longer-...Ahh..."

He starts thrusting more, hoping for a yes.

“Sssoooo c-” Karkat chokes off on a hiccup, whines, tries to start again. Both his holes clamp down hard, wanting to keep those cocks inside him more than anything.

“...so c lose…” he breathes, and he’s _tense,_ because it’s true. He’s so fucking close, but he doesn’t want to cum before he _has them._ Wants to feel them both inside him, filled until he splits, with hot and sticky human material.

A desperate wave of his own material gushes out of him before he can help it, _almost_ cumming, so close to orgasm that he can _taste it._

He throws his head back on another moan, shuddering and barely hanging on by a thread.

“...ssstop… teasing me… just l-let me have it…”

His voice is tight and strung out. He doesn’t even try to open his eyes, he won’t be able to see through the hot tears anyway. If Dirk doesn’t give this to him, this _one thing,_ he’s probably never going to forgive him.

Well, at least until the next time Dirk corners him with the promise for more.

Maybe, if Dirk won’t, Dave will take pity on him. That thought makes him turn forward, try to kiss Dave the best he can. He misses, mostly, kissing at the corners of his mouth, his bottom lip, anywhere he can get his mouth on. He adds an extra breathy _please…_

Not very surprisingly, Dave is the first one to the finish-line; Karkat's hot breath against him, his wet, sopping nook clenching around him, Karkat's hand on him-- Karkat, Karkat, _Karkat_ \- "Karkat- fuck- _fuck_!" 

He kisses back the best he can, slamming home one last time, getting as deep as he can as he comes- he gasps, then moans, then _shakes_ , hips twitching to push himself even further inside when he literally _can't_... 

It's like Dirk can almost feel it, feel the heat of come pushing deep inside. He most likely can't, the membrane probably isn't that thick... but everything is too warm, so slippery anyway, he's probably also not far off from his presumption. 

"One down..." He leans forward to whisper into Karkat's ear, "One-" he thrusts as hard as he can into Karkat, jostling both him and Dave with it, " _to_ " again, " _go_ ." And then he's off as well, groaning deeply, the release hitting him like the best kind of high; everything feels good; his stomach against Karkat's back, his lips against Karkat's ear, Dave's breath scalding him, Karkat's hole _twitching_ , _god_... 

He can't wait to see Karkat come, to feel red drench him, see it drench the couch, hear Karkat when he _just can't hold it anymore_. 

"Come, Kitten- fuck, come for me, come for _us_ , you did so good taking both our cocks, come on--" he pushes a hand between Dave and Karkat, finding Karkat's bulge, trapping it in his hand and squeezing it. 

" _Come_."

Karkat can’t keep up. Everything blurs together as searing heat fills him, as Dirk all but abuses him into his orgasm. He’s already peaking when Dirk grabs his bulge, and it makes him _sob_ as his orgasm pulls him apart.

Bright red material gushes out of him in hot bursts, coating his thighs, Dave’s thighs, soaking into the couch. He’s _shaking,_ shivering as every last drop of everything he had pent up comes out of him, and for a second, he’s scared that his own orgasm pushed their cum out of him, too.

Holy shit, what kind of disgusting sex fiend has Dirk turned him into?

Or maybe… he’s always been this way, and Dirk has simply enabled him to embrace it.

He’s still a bastard.

He’s left light and tingling and so very warm as his climax starts to ebb down. It’s now that he realizes that he’s still stuffed full, that they’re both _still inside him,_ and he could almost cry again just knowing that they kept him plugged up, kept their cum inside him by force.

It stirs something in him all over again, and there’s no way they can be finished already. They can’t be, Karkat wants so much more of them.

As the tears dry on his cheeks, he twists his whole torso back toward Dave, hugs him, buries his face in his chest. Both his holes still spasm and twitch as he rocks his hips again, humping down on their cocks to chase his high.

Dave is panting, his chest slightly slick with sweat, and he twitches and moans as Karkat starts moving again; at first he thinks for _sure_ it's Karkat trying to dislodge them, and he tries helping for a moment- but no- wait...?

"A-ah, Karkat-" He grabs onto a shoulder, yelping a little, "hold on-" his cock, already softening inside him, twinges uncomfortably. 

Dirk, on the other hand, breathes out an incredulous little laugh, slipping out of Karkat's fucked out hole, rubbing a finger against it to feel at how loose it is, checking the colour... It's pretty. 

"You can't actually be serious...?" His tone is teasing, and he squeezes Karkat's bulge again, thinking it's probably too sensitive to feel good right now. "You just had _two_ dicks fucking you, you're _not for real_..." 

Dirk can feel his own exhaustion sink into him, making him loose and pliant, letting him relax- yeahh, that's what good, hard fucks is for... He won't ever say he's fuckdrunk, but part of him admits that he likes the closeness of this... Of the two- _three_ of them, panting and sweating and _feeling good_... 

He rests his head on Karkat's back, panting down it, closing his eyes- despite thinking Karkat _has to be joking_ , he's still planning, his mind slowly coming back online to give him a pointer to 'what next' before people start asking.

Karkat having a higher libido than him?? Not on the fucking table.

Karkat whines again, but it’s a petulant noise, demanding, upset at the _audacity_ his boyfriend has to pull out when he’s _not done yet._

“God damnit, Dirk, _why--”_

Without thinking, his nails dig into Dave’s back with his frustration. He tries to thrust back on Dirk’s dick again, but the only thing he gets for his effort is Dave’s slipping out of him as well. He’s left empty and aching and the hand wrapped up with his bulge is the only thing keeping him from immediately starting to beg.

“Just one more…” he says, trying to keep his voice as even as he can. He’s almost caught his breath, and that is _not_ the state he wants to be in right now.

He lets go of Dave, to turn and cradle Dirk’s face in his hands. “You can give me one more, right, baby? You’re not too tired? Poor guy is too fucked out to satisfy his boyfriend…”

He’s restless, trying not to squirm. If he could just get some friction going…

“If you can’t do it, maybe Dave can.”

Oh no. _Hell_ no. _Hell_ fucking no. 

He checks his breath, calming it down, at least trying to. Those 'what if's turns to certainty, and there's two things he needs to work through; 

  1. Dave and him just came. Recuperation needed on both ends. 
  2. He has to give Karkat an answer _now_ or be humiliated. 
  3. He needs to top what they were just doing, and he has no toys in the livingroom. 



A conundrum indeed. 

But of course, Dirk has had the time to think. He congratulates his always churning mind, growling and pulling Karkat in to a harsh kiss by the hair, slotting their mouths into place. He bites Karkat's lip, so it'll at least almost match his own. 

"Oh, I'll satisfy my sloppy, slutty boyfriend no problem." 

He pulls Karkat away from Dave, giving him another filthy, slightly tired kiss; the challenge has invigorated him though; Karkat will _cry_. 

"Dave, sit down behind the couch, back to the back." He snaps his fingers and points, and though Dave makes a soft moan of protest and confusion, he climbs over the back and hits the floor with a tired _'oof'._

Dirk takes the free time to dominate Karkat's mouth, pushing his tongue in and swirling it together with Karkat's in an angry tango, orange eyes squinted in hot irritation. 

He pulls back, a trail of slick between them snapping when they get too far away from each other. 

"You, Kitten. Stand in front of Dave." He smirks, leaning in more slowly, giving him a soft kiss. "I'll give you an encore from last time... Seemed to make you satisfied enough..." 

He stands, dragging Karkat with him around the couch and pushing him into the correct stance, hands on the back of the couch, legs spread. 

"Yeahh, like that." He pushes Karkat forwards, enough that his crotch bumps against Dave's face. Dave reddens, realizing where this is headed. Hah. Head.

"Hold onto his legs, lil dude. He's a lil' shaky. Don't wanna ruin the rhythm we'll get going. Actually..." 

Dirk slides down as well, hands smoothing down Karkat's ass and down his thighs, his own legs bumping into Dave's. Dirk sits down on his ass, tall enough to be a little taller than the needed height. He moves his legs here and there to see what's more comfortable, but then mumbles a _'fuck it',_ pulling Karkat forward enough that he can wrap his legs around Dave's waist. 

"We'll hold him up together... You know where this is going, don't you...?" 

Dave, still out of breath but visibly aroused, nods a little. 

"Eaten pussy before...?" Another, smaller nod. "Eaten nook...?" A shake of the head. 

Dirk grins. He pulls Karkat's asscheeks apart, murmuring to Dave softly, "'s not that different... Just follow my lead." And then he's swiping his tongue from Karkat's slit and back, over his still twitching hole. 

"When you can't taste your own spunk anymore you know he's clean. Protip." He grins wider to himself, then breathes out a soft 'ah' and dives back in. 

Dave, more hesitant, spreads Karkat's folds with two fingers, looking up to Karkat and he digs his tongue between the folds, correctly enough tasting himself faintly mixed with the copious amounts of slick still dripping out of Karkat. 

Not that he's complaining...

The easy taunts work like a charm, get Karkat exactly what he wants, and Dirk is all over him again within seconds. He doesn’t know what he expects, but being picked up and moved around is _not it._ He finds himself with his feet on the floor and his hands gripping into the back of the couch, both his boyfriends sitting beneath him.

Oh, he does _not_ have the energy to keep standing like this, what the fuck was Dirk thinking? This is what he gets for his challenge, he supposes. And the two of them wouldn’t let him fall, right…?

He stiffens when Dirk’s tongue touches him, and his mind finally catches up to what’s happening now. Dirk isn’t just going to eat him again, they _both_ are.

He shivers pleasantly, actually grateful for the slow ease back into it. Maybe if he builds his stamina back up enough, he can be the one that ruins _Dirk._ Wouldn’t that be something? He should do that anyway, considering how Dirk fucking left him after their previous two encounters. The bastard deserves to suffer for that, and he _better_ not leave Karkat again, when they’re done here.

It’s a softer pleasure this time, with their warm mouths on him instead of the brutal pace of their cocks. It’s not as intense, but still just as good. The fire starts between his legs, and spreads rapidly up into his chest, his cheeks.

He reaches a hand down from the couch to card through Dave’s hair, encouraging him on. “That’s it…” he coos.

He can still feel himself dripping. Still feel every bit of their cum still fucked deep inside of him. He wonders how long it’ll stay in there…

Dave, still looking up at Karkat, blushes a pretty red at the praise, making sure to use his tongue as nice and heavy as he can, a hint of teeth here and there but he's trying his absolute best to keep it wet and smooth, tongue lapping into the slit to coax out more material and come from further inside.

He never thought he'd come to like a taste like this, but while it's not _tasty_... How nice it feels to have Karkat's hand in his hair, how Dirk's leg twitches a little at his hip... The experience, how it pokes at his almost burnt out coals of arousal.... 

He likes it. 

He closes his eyes, losing himself in the experience, sticking his tongue out as far as he can, as deep _in_ as he can, to familiarize himself with Karkat's nook. It has some ridges he's not used to, it goes soft some places he doesn't expect, and it _squeezes_ almost intelligently around his tongue, pushing material onto it to let him swallow. 

He sighs, dipping out of the nook with a soft squelch, slurping and licking at the outer folds, the fingers holding the folds open rubbing up and down slowly. 

Another tongue touches his, and he starts with a soft 'ah.' 

Dirk starts a little as well, having only just gotten properly started with his ass-eating. His mind reels a little for a moment, reminding him that despite being able to _envision_ scenarios like this he hasn't actually done it before, but he tells himself to chill the fuck out. 

He continues licking at the skin under Karkat's chute, waiting for their tongues to brush again, lapping and slurping and panting just as much as Dave is, feeling like a starved beast, and then their tongues swipe over each other again.

Dave mewls a little, face beet red (from juices or arousal he can't say), but he can't really _see_ Dirk, so he hikes a little lower, sticks his tongue out bravely far, and soon their tongues are battling for territory, licking and lashing at each other, digging into folds possessively, soft grunts and huffs of strain. 

Then Dirk decides it's time to devour that ass, and he licks a long wet strip up Karkat's ass and _digs in_. 

At first, the two of them only use their mouths, the only sound in the room being them slurping and huffing and groaning into Karkat's body like dogs digging into their favourite meal. 

Then, slowly, Dirk adds a finger, and Dave starts paying attention to Karkat's bulge, and then suddenly they're both fucking Karkat on their fingers, eyes closed and focused, getting lost in the experience. 

Sometimes Dirk fucks his finger into Karkat's nook, pushes them into Dave's mouth and has him suck off whatever juice's on them or wetting them, then continuing on. 

It's enough to bring both their dicks to a half-chub again. 

Dave has never felt so filthy in his life, and Dirk is inclined to agree. This is _more_ than the first time he ate Karkat out...

Karkat doesn’t really notice the moment the Striders have, how could he? Tongues and fingers blur together the same way their cocks did, laving together, pushing into him, teasing the skin of his thighs.

He’s not going to last as long this time, that’s for fucking sure.

The wet, breathy noises the two of them are making have Karkat feeling… powerful. Like they can’t get enough of him. Like they’re only here for him, for the sole purpose of making him cum again. 

“S… so good…” he purrs, fisting his hand harder in Dave’s hair.

And then Dave’s mouth is on his bulge, and Dirk’s tongue is *inside* his chute. Jesus christ, that is so fucking dirty. It was bad enough, with his fingers or his dick in there, but his _tongue…_

His knees go weak, but his boys don’t let him fall. His bulge thrashes, curls and flexes against Dave’s lips and tongue. Before he knows what he’s doing, it’s tucking down and pushing _in._ Right into that wet, hot mouth, and it’s all Karkat can take before he’s falling forward over the back of the couch.

The hand in Dave’s hair meets couch, in turn crushing Dave’s head into his pelvis, but he feels far too good to notice. He smothers Dave in his bulge, grinding his nook up into his chin, with Dirk still hard at work behind them.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he grinds out, teeth clenched. His legs are fully trembling now, without his own body weight to keep them still. 

“So good, Dave, so fucking good for me, god-”

At first, Dave thinks Karkat is pushing into him on purpose, washed away by passion and close to coming; he responds eagerly, giving out a soft cough as Karkat's bulge plays with his naturally quite weak gag-reflex, hands gripping onto Karkat's thighs for his own and Karkat's balance. 

He tries sucking at the bulge with fervor, waiting for the moment their laps will be splashed with another layer of red, but before that his lungs start asking for air. 

Start _demanding_ air, really. Dave tries taking a breath in through his nose, but it's squashed against Karkat. He tries opening his mouth for a breath, but he just coughs around Karkat's bulge and he can't _bite_ it-- 

Then, his lungs starts _begging_ for air, and that's when he slaps at a thigh, and also one of Dirk's hands. 

Dirk, too lost in trying to pull out as much come as he could from inside Karkat's chute, unlatches himself to see what's going on- how Dave's legs are twitching a little, how his hands scramble- 

How Karkat is _choking him on his junk_. 

He takes a quick moment to take a mental photograph of that, then grabs Karkat by the hips and hauls him back a foot and a half, tone chastising and demeaning, 

"Holy _shit_ , Karkat, you don't choke people on your junk without practicing some Sane, Safe and Consent, dude-" 

Dave cuts him off, done with his little coughing fit and gasping for breath, Karkat's bulge just barely licking at his nose, 

"No, it's good, that was so hot-..." Dave stops himself, brows shooting up as he realizes what he just said; Dirk's does the same. 

Well, then. Isn't this a nice wild-card to be given. 

"Well... Aren't you taking this like a good little boy, Davey..." He grabs Dave's chin, pushing at his lower lip. "But people gotta know when you need air, anyways..." 

He looks up to Karkat, eyebrows raised significantly, "Isn't that _right_ , you desperate lil' kittykat."

Karkat only whines, rocking his hips in Dirk’s hold as if to silently ask them to get back to work. He feels _bad_ that he nearly choked Dave, sure, but Dave just said that he liked it, and Karkat was so close to getting there…

“I’m sorryyy…” he starts to plead, sounding downright undignified. He props himself back up with a hand on the back of the couch again and looks down at Dave, to see…

To see Dirk _holding his face in his hand._ Ohhh, no, that isn’t going to fly. And it’s not because this is all about him, or anything like that, it’s because Dave is _his._

“Hey, don’t fucking touch him--” Karkat demands, and then he’s knocking Dirk’s hand away and taking Dave’s chin in his own fingers.

He tilts Dave’s head up, looking down into his eyes. And… that filthy, wet, red face. Damn, Dave looks good. “I’m sorry, Dave, okay? I’ll ask next time…” His bulge punctuates his words, by curling up teasingly against Dave’s bottom lip again.

After maintaining eye contact for a long moment, he turns to glare over his shoulder at Dirk. “Now can we get on with it? You interrupted my flow…” And that’s not to say he’s turned off, by any means, but it’s going to take him longer to get back up where he was again.

It’s then that he feels a wet glop of… _someone’s_ cum oozing out of him. It makes his face hot and his thighs automatically clamp together. It’s a gross feeling, a _good_ feeling. And he’s right back to being humiliated all over again.

“F-fuck… Ugh…”

Dave looks up to Karkat as he's grabbed by a new hand, slightly more firmly, still dazed. 

"- uhuh..." Dave's tongue goes out to meet the bulge, glancing down at it before looking up again. 

It was... really hot. Dave tries to process that, but honestly he's with Karkat on this one; it was fine, and he _did_ just say he'd ask next time. 

When Karkat focuses more on Dirk, he's back to sucking and kissing at Karkat's nook, not really caring what they're bickering about. He doesn't know why it feels so good to be doing this for Karkat, but the way he trembles... The way he so desperately want them to continue, how Karkat tells him he's doing good, when _doing it_ feels so good... 

Fuck... 

Both Dave and Dirk notice the glob of come sliding out of his nook, and they both go for it, tongues meeting as they dig and slurp and _fight_ over it, Dirk firmly holding Karkat's legs opens while Dave hunches down a little just so he can really dig his tongue in to scoop out more, lips sealing around the slit and _sucking_ , moaning when he gets some more material out. 

Dirk, weirdly jealous and sure that Karkat is busy moaning his slutty little heart out, leans forwards further, sliding his tongue down towards the slit and meet Dave there, lapping at Dave's lips and Karkat's both, asking Dave to play and share.

Dave is not hard to beg. When he feels Dirk try to initiate a kiss, Karkat's words still warming him, he opens his mouth, squelching wet sounds passed between them as they use Karkat's nook as the third person in a threesome make-out, sloppily licking material and come and spit out of each others' mouths. 

They both moan, almost in tandem. 

Then they go back to their respective holes, Dirk smug that he got a good little make out sesh with Dave despite the scolding. He digs two fingers inside Karkat again, scooping out come and lube, eating it all out.

If there's one thing he's missing from eating nook, it's how full it got him... Next time, he and Dave will switch. 

He's pretty sure Dave can take it after this. 

Dave, now back to suckling at the base of Karkat's bulge, is also fingering into Karkat's hole, twisting and rubbing inside him experimentally, desperate to learn what it is that makes Karkat tic; he's behind, it seems. 

He tries imitating the motions of Karkat's wriggly with his tongue, letting his tongue play up and down the length of it before going down to the root and sucking on it longingly. 

Slowly they go back to the same rhythm they were at, sloppy sounds and grunts included, almost patiently waiting for Karkat to spill onto them, grasping Karkat's legs so he won't fall.

Karkat is easy to fall back into it, after the shock of the cum dripping out of him. Dirk holds onto him firmly, stopping him from getting too aggressive with Dave again. He’s grateful for it, but at the same time… he can’t get the image out of his head. Of Dave below him, head trapped between his thighs, choking on material and gagging around his bulge

 _It was so hot,_ Dave said. Karkat agrees.

He keeps getting swept up in Dirk, with the way that Dirk _demands_ his attention, but he really… is so glad that Dave is here. And he can’t wait to have Dave all to himself, when Dirk isn’t around. It’s pretty likely that Dirk will ditch him again after this, anyway, as much as Karkat doesn’t want him to. He might get some alone time with Dave sooner than he thinks.

He shakes that thought from his head, a particularly good jab of fingers erasing it completely. He moans between a purr-- oh god, when did he start purring again? He must really be gone, to not even notice a thing like that.

And with an extra good flick of a tongue, an extra sweet press of fingers, Karkat is collapsing over the back of the couch again. One hand finds Dave’s head, one Dirk’s, and he grips at each of them as his orgasm rolls into him, hot and slow.

It’s so _different_ from the last one, a dull ache just under the surface, rippling over him so sweet and so fucking good.

Material spills from him, probably dousing Dave in the worst of it. He can hear it hit the hard wood floors with wet smacks, though, and it makes him dizzy just to listen to it.

His legs go weak again, and as he starts to go down, Dirk guides him down to sit in their laps. His legs wrap around Dave’s waist, joining in on top of Dirk’s, and he lays his head back against Dirk’s shoulder.

He’s _spent_ and it’s exactly what he was craving. He turns his forehead into Dirk’s neck with a hum, hoping they can just… stay like this for a while. At least together, all three of them.

“...don’t leave this time…” he murmurs. He can’t help the way his brows scrunch together with the nagging fear that Dirk might just... say no. At least he’ll have Dave.

Dirk practically _purrs_ when he feels, _hears_ Karkat's material hitting the floor, but he continues slurping at his chute, dragging out the orgasm as much as he can, wanting to dip a hand down to feel and taste at it, but he kind of needs to hold Karkat _up_ unless he wants the troll himself on the floor too. 

Dave, correctly enough being soaked in material, gasps and slurps a little on the material, though it's way too much for him to have any sort of control of it; in the end he lets it wash over him, feeling it soak his shirt and jeans, making it cling to him, hot and wet. 

"Oh god yeah, Karkat... Yeah...." Dave holds onto Karkat sweetly, kissing at his thighs and stomach, a finger rubbing against his slit gently, sighing out; if the two of them forces him into another round, he might cry. 

He is _wrung out_. 

Dirk, looking down at Karkat, is feeling wrung out in a slightly different way. 

He ... wasn't _planning_ on leaving him, from before. They'd already had a talk about it, Karkat obviously wasn't a fan of it. 

"I won't." It's a neutral admittance, and he gives Karkat a quick peck to the cheek, looking over at Dave. 

He looks... Pretty debauched. Red in his blonde hair, red in his face, red dripping down his cheek, red on his _shirt_... 

Red on his mouth, where Dirk kissed and licked into it. 

He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Karkat like he's and anchor, manually slowing down his breath. 

That was a thing he did. 

But that was neither here nor there. It's happened, it's done. Everything is fine, Dave is looking dazed and happy, he even found himself a new shiny kink, isn't that just nice.

Dave is currently smoothing his hands up and down Karkat's thighs, murmuring sweet nothings to him, catching Dirks eyes and giving him a small little smile. 

"Better move to the couch again." Dirk decides quickly, breaking Dave's gaze. "Ass hurts." 

They mostly drag Karkat back on the couch, avoiding the large stain on one end. With the pull-out cushion there is still plenty of room for the three of them, and Dirk finds a blanket- _two_ blankets, throwing one to Dave unhelpfully. 

The other one he puts on Karkat himself, and some on his own. He's quick to decide how they lay down, him spooning Karkat, and Karkat spooning Dave. 

Dave struggles a little with the blanket, still a little shaky, but in the end, he manages to fold it over both him and Karkat, scooching in to press his back against Karkat's chest, making a soft 'm-mh' of comfort, easily grabbing Karkat's arm pulling it over himself. 

Dirk sees the small fuss Dave makes and rests his lips against the back of Karkat's neck, grabbing a pillow so he'll lay comfortable, putting a hand under Karkat's arm and snaking it to his upper chest, slowly relaxing, pulse beating fast still.


	4. Dirk/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past trauma, child abuse, sexual assault... A short chapter, you can skip, if you're not here for it.
> 
> The sexy DirkKat will be back next chapter.

When Karkat wakes up, he’s warm. He’s wrapped up in a set of arms, and he’s so comfortable that he doesn’t want to open his eyes. The events of the last two days have left him thoroughly exhausted, and he intends to go right the fuck back to sleep if he can.

He dozes, drifting in and out of sleep for the next several hours. Eventually, a hand in his hair convinces him to stir.

With a quiet groan, he turns in the arms, until he opens his eyes to see Dave, and he’s on the receiving end of a good morning kiss. He positively melts into it, loving every touch and press of their swollen lips. It makes him light headed, how tender it is, how much care Dave is obviously handling him with. He almost doesn’t notice that Dirk is gone again.

...almost.

With a resigned sigh, he presses one more kiss to the corner of Dave’s mouth and starts to sit up a little bit. Before he can even get a word out, though, his stomach makes the loudest noise he’s ever heard it make.

Dave laughs at him (and  _ god, _ that laugh is even cuter now than it ever was when they were  _ friends _ ) and asks him, “Are you hungry, dude?” 

_ Dude. _ Even as matesprites, Karkat supposes that Dave will never change.

“You did kind of go a little wild yesterday, I’m sure you worked up a pretty heavy appetite,” Dave continues. And Karkat should probably be embarrassed by that, but the way Dave is looking at him… Those soft eyes. The gentle, lovestruck smile. The only thing it does is fill Karkat’s stomach with more butterflies.

Fuck Dirk. Dave can be everything Karkat needs, and more. It’s always been just the two of them anyway, so why should a couple of good fucks change that? ...Okay, maybe they were more than just good fucks. Maybe he wasn’t lying when he told Dirk he had feelings for him. And maybe Dirk is a completely useless, unfeeling asshole, just like Karkat always thought he was.

But now isn’t the time for that. He’s with Dave, and he’s going to  _ enjoy  _ it, god damnit.

Dave orders them some food (read: a fucking lot of food) and they gorge themselves stupid before moving on to clean up the living room. They play video games, read, spend a lot more time kissing than is probably strictly necessary. But fuck it, they’re alone, and they can do whatever they want with no judgements.

The next several days pass in a similar fashion. They hang out together, eat, have a lot more sex. Karkat goes home a few times, to shower or grab himself a few things. He’s forced to leave for a few hours each day, when work calls. But overall, he’s more than happy to spend every second of his free time doting on Dave. It’s partially to do with the fact that he wants to, and partially to cover up the anxiety over the fact that he hasn’t seen Dirk a _ single time. _

It’s been almost a week, and it’s getting harder and harder to pretend that he isn’t affected. It isn’t unlike Dirk, to disappear for days on end at a time, but Karkat can’t help it when he starts to worry. He gets lost in his own head a lot, and he can’t act like he doesn’t notice the concerned looks Dave is constantly giving him.

It’s just that… Dirk said he wouldn’t leave. Right? So what did Karkat do wrong? Why hasn’t he come back yet? Did he scare Dirk off with his feelings? Did he push too hard? Does Dirk actually just  _ hate _ him, and it’s not pitch at all?

Well, even if he doesn’t want Karkat anymore, that’s a piss fucking poor excuse to leave Dave behind, too.

And… even if he doesn’t want Karkat anymore, that doesn’t mean Karkat doesn’t fucking miss him. He misses Dirk so much that it hurts. He misses that stupid, cocky grin. That smart, smackable mouth. His awful hair. His rough kisses. His heated, dirty words. The hesitantly comforting arms. The carefully guarded feelings he lets slip into their banter.

No, Dirk doesn’t fucking have feelings. Karkat must have been hallucinating, if he ever thought for a second that he did. He obviously doesn’t, if this is how he’s going to treat Karkat.

Dave is enough. Dave is wonderful. Dave is loving and sweet and everything a matesprite should be. Dave is painfully sympathetic when Karkat slips out of bed in the middle of the night to sneak away, pretending that he doesn’t notice it.

Karkat ends up in Dirk’s room. It’s empty, like it has been for over a week, but it still smells like him. His bed still smells like him. His pillow still smells like him… It’s pathetic. It’s pathetic, but it helps to dull the ache in his chest, to feel close to Dirk again. 

He lays there for the better part of an hour, just letting himself… relax. He breathes it all in, trying to pick apart the different parts of Dirk he misses the most. He gets lost in it, head spinning with the desire to just  _ see him  _ again. To have a shouting match. To fight with their hands, until one of them inevitably ends up pinned into a scorching, toothy kiss.

It’s not enough. None of this is enough. Karkat needs something to  _ hold onto.  _ At least until he sees Dirk again, and they can either officially break up and end this heartache, or… Well, is any excuse Dirk comes up with going to be good enough?

Karkat sits up and slowly climbs out of bed. He looks around the room, taking careful steps, touching this or that. He opens drawers, shuffles through papers and nicknacks, and eventually comes to open the closet. Even if the clothes are clean, he’s honestly overwhelmed by how much everything inside still smells like Dirk.

He doesn’t hesitate to grab a tshirt off a hanger. He brings it to his mouth, closes his eyes, and just... breathes. It’s almost enough to make him start to fucking cry, like the sensitive, pitch-struck baby that he apparently is, but he catches a breath and forces it down.

No. He refuses to cry over this. It’s not fucking happening.

He snaps his eyes open with resolve and continues to snoop through the closet. It doesn’t take him long to find… something. It looks like it should be locked, but it’s not, so he opens it. He honestly can’t say he’s shocked by what he finds, but it still rattles him to see the most expansive bondage collection he’s ever seen.

Leave it to Dirk.

There are a few things that are easy to recognize, even if Karkat’s never seen them in real life. Restraints, blindfolds, various types of floggers. A frankly unnecessary array of different vibrating or insertable toys. There are a few things he’s never seen before, though, and as he eyes them, touches them, he’s gradually filled with the burning desire to know what the fuck they are. And to use every single one of them against Dirk.

If Dirk ever comes back.

He takes a mental note of things he needs to google, things he wants to research, and then shuts the lid on the case again.

When he climbs back into bed with Dave, he’s shaken for a whole new reason. He’s still upset, but it’s undercut with an angry arousal. And he can’t fucking  _ stand _ that Dirk still has this effect on him when he hasn’t even been  _ around. _

He grips the tshirt that he still has in his hands, buries his fuming face in it, and does his best to go back to sleep.

The thing is... 

The thing is. 

Dirk is fine. He wakes up before Dave, and definitely before Karkat. They're both quiet sleepers, and so is probably Dirk. 

He simply looks at them for a long while, looking at their lax, soft faces.

Dave's still filthy in Karkat's juices, and he's drooling a little onto the couch-pillow, Karkat hot against his own chest.

Something in Dirk pangs, an uncomfortable, sinking, aching feeling that spreads from his diaphragm and out to his hands. Quiet, as probably only he knows how, he slips his arm from under Karkat's, slowly backing off. 

He just needs some time, he reassures himself, taking them both in as he stands over the couch. They look cute together. He tries to smile for them, but finds his face is awfully stiff, even with the two of them asleep. It's fine though. Nothing new. Just needs some time to sink it. 

It's not that he's regretting doing this. Doing this with Dave. He's not  _ regretting _ it. He walks to his own room, looking at nothing and everything, and hard but short sigh huffing out his nose. 

Maybe it's wrong he's not regretting it? Is he feeling bad for regretting it? What is he feeling right now...? He looks through some books, flips through them aimlessly, brain not processing the big words and technological jargon, mostly looking at the pictures.

Is he feeling bad? Is he feeling bad about Dave? He enjoyed it didn't he? He made sure, he  _ made sure _ ??? With another, more annoyed huff he snaps the book shut, putting it back in place and picking out another one.  _ 'A new World of Mechanical Genius' _ . Interesting. He's read it a couple times. Guy's a moron, but he's seen some cool projects. 

He starts flipping again, face twitching into something painful as he starts drifting into think-land again. But if Dave enjoyed it, and  _ he _ enjoyed it, and Karkat enjoyed it and they all enjoyed it  _ it's fine, right _ ?? 

Just needs time, Dirk decides coldly now, flipping another page and sinking into it, taking a slow, deep breath. It just needs to process. It's not like before, he's absolutely sure of it. 

He's not Bro. 

Dave knows that, Karkat knows that.  _ He _ knows that. 

He knows that, right? 

But wasn't this all uncomfortably familiar despite that? 

He shakes his head firmly, snapping the book shut and stuffing it into his work-bag, hurrying over to the bathroom to rid himself of the gunky clothes. They didn't even take of their clothes. 

He hasn't,  _ once _ , with Karkat. That's... That's fucked up, right? 

"Shut up, dude," he warns himself softly, opting to grab a clean set of clothes and clean up properly at his studio. He washes his hands though, brows heavily furrowed. 

So maybe it was a bit fucked up. So what? It was a one time thing. He didn't  _ force _ anything, everything was, despite the intensity of it, soft and easy. 

Was he soft and easy once? 

Not thinking about that. He  _ refuses _ .

He refrains from looking into the mirror, instead slipping on the shades and sneaking back to his room, grabbing the work-bag. 

Dirk just needs to  _ work through it _ . It's a simple matter of calming the fuck down and being the better man and  _ chilling the fuck out _ . Obviously, these two are not seeing any issue, or they wouldn't be sleeping like little angels still, all clutching each other and making comfy-noises and... 

No, it's a  _ Dirk _ problem. What else is new. And who wants to listen to Dirk problems all day every day, raise your hands please. No-one? 

He looks back from the door-way, softly clicking the lock off, phone in hand and work-bag over his shoulder. 

That sounds about right. 

And, you know, it was supposed to be just for the day. He'd held Karkat's promise, he didn't  _ leave right away _ . He doesn't feel bad about that either, because he is  _ way too busy _ trying to solve this equation that'll help him progress in his project. 

Just, that he keeps working, and it sure is interesting. It's so interesting he can't quite seem to stop, which is something he's known for. And then he gets tired, and he thinks okay, just a quick nap. And he lies down on his work-station bed, closes his eyes. 

And he  _ can't fucking sleep _ . 

So, why waste hours when he can't sleep anyway? 

He keeps on working. Keeps progressing. It's a good thing, progressing. Healthy. Gives you goals and lets you achieve them. You can move on from it, when you're finished progressing, move onto the next step. 

In some ways, Dirk doesn't feel like he's progressing. 

But that's why he works, he tells himself on the third night, waking up to bolts stuck to his cheek and memories of something stickier being stuck to it.

Sleep is for fucking  _ pussies _ anyway. 

He works some more. Orders in a pizza at some point, he can see the cardboard box anyway- he... is sure he had it at some point. 

On one of the days, he doesn't really count, he feels at his chin, surprised to feel the amount of scrag on it. Oh, ew. That needs  _ off _ , he does not wear beards well. 

After shambling over to his little en suite to the studio, he realizes he doesn't  _ have _ razors here. Not the electrical shaver either. For  _ reasons _ . 

He sighs. Well, better head back. 

The way back feels too quick, but also very, very long. He's kind of thirsty. When he enters the apartment, no-one notices him. Thank fuck, the beard is probably ugly enough to make an old man cry. 

With a small sigh of relief, he feels at his face when he's finished shaving. Much better. Baby fucking smooth. 

Actually, maybe he should make himself a smoothie or something. He opens the door to the bathroom, planning on walking casually to the kitchen. 

Maybe everything is good now. He doesn't feel much of anything right now. 

Oh, there's Dave.

When Dave hears the front door open, he assumes that it’s only Karkat coming back early from work. So when he comes out of his room, it’s the  _ last _ thing he expects, to catch the tail end of Dirk disappearing into the bathroom.

Oh, hell no.

All the resentment and anger that he’s been holding in for Karkat’s sake comes rushing to the surface, and by the time Dirk comes back out, Dave is fucking _ livid. _

He stands in the middle of the ling room, arms crossed tight over his chest, mouth set into a thin line, uncovered eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. He doesn’t give Dirk the chance to talk, or to run, before he’s already going off.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, bro? Where the fuck have you been? Do you have  _ any idea _ how messed up Karkat has been? Do you even care? I thought you--”

Dave has to stop, take a shaking breath. His fingers are clenched so tightly around his own biceps, it’s probably going to bruise.

“I thought you actually gave a shit about him. Or was it all some kind of ironic game? Because  _ he _ didn’t think it was a game.”

Well. 

So everything is not good now. 

You could say, even, that things are... Bad. 

Dirk takes in the rigid stance Dave has entered, the defensive cross of his arms, his narrowed eyes... Was he like that? He can't remember. 

Suddenly, Dirk feels just a little bit sick. 

Probably for uncomfortably long, Dirk just stares at Dave, happy he has his shades in place. Still, he tenses from the way Dave's breath shakes, the way his fingers clench. 

He's angry, sure. But he's hurt, too. And... And is he folding his arms to protect himself? Is he angry to push away the feelings of helplessness in him? Is he scared of Dirk? 

He was scared. Before. 

Dirk takes a quick, almost punishing breath in through his nose, trying to actually focus on the words being said. He feels slow. He probably is. 

Who is he talking about? Oh-... Oh, fuck, Karkat. Yeah. He's... Dirk didn't end that one on a good note either. 

A game though...? 

"... iron-...? ...Uh." He's never felt more eloquent in his life. 

"I wasn't-..." he stops himself from fidgeting, hating that his voice comes out so soft. He straightens up, cocking his head to the side in that surefire way to scream douche, sighing out deeply, not quite managing exasperatedly . 

"I'm just fucked up Dave. What else is new." He walks past Dave and into the kitchen, his motions choppy when he finds equipment and ingredients for a smoothie.

Dave is caught off guard by how…  _ shaken _ Dirk looks. His own tight posture suddenly drops as Dirk pushes past him, and for a second he feels bad for yelling--

No. No fuck that. Dirk did something wrong, and he deserves to be yelled at. But maybe… Dave needs to actually figure out what happened, before going into full punishment mode. Maybe Dirk has an excuse.

Not that any excuse will be  _ good enough,  _ but maybe Dirk has one.

He follows Dirk into the kitchen, and in a slightly less aggressive tone, he tries again. “You know that  _ I’m just fucked up  _ isn’t an answer, right? Karkat is really hurt. I’m used to you disappearing like that, but he isn’t.”

He eyes Dirk, and the more that he does, the more obvious it becomes that something is actually wrong. But where did it come from? What happened, that made Dirk shut down like that? It’s not like Dirk will tell him.

After a moment, he decides that maybe he can pull it out of him via the sad little brother act. Every now and then, that actually works, for whatever reason.

“You know, I… I’ll forgive you, right? Just tell me what the fuck happened.”

Dirk just grunts in answer at Dave's first question, opening bags and bringing out a knife to slice the banana into to pieces. 

He tries to focus on the ingredients instead of the actual conversation going on. He doesn't want to have it. He wants this to be over with, and he wants everything to be back to  _ normal _ . He  _ hates _ how this feels. 

Karkat got hurt though. Dirk figured he might be... He  _ did _ stay the night, it wasn't  _ his _ fault they slept like fucking rocks till noon. But Dirk had promised that he'd stay. 

Fuck. His own justifications aren't good enough. Dirk was just being an  _ asshole _ . He's been an asshole this whole time, and he didn't even notice until now. Well. Mostly.

He's probably fucked them all up worse than Bro ever could at this point. What if  _ he _ never realized that what was going on was... was  _ bad _ , what if Dirk never told him properly, and...? 

Dirk drops a slice of banana to the floor;  _ I'll forgive you, right? _

The fuck kind of thing to say is  _ that! _ Just the  _ thought _ of that, of Dave forgiving him over and over when - when Dirk is  _ such a fuck up _ , that's not okay-... 

Maybe he's mixing things up a little, maybe Dave not really talking about- ...About  _ that _ . 

Dirk huffs and crouches down to grab the banana, rising and flinging it to the sink. 

"Maybe ya'll  _ shouldn't _ ," he gruffs out tiredly, sighing and shaking his head briefly. 

"Got caught up in a project like usual. Sorry and all that." He doesn't apologize often, but if it gets Dave off his back on his, he'll gladly use it.

...okay. So, that’s definitely not normal. Dirk is sorry? And unforgivable?

Dave takes a step closer to Dirk before stopping again. He’s at a loss, honestly, about what he should do. It doesn’t happen a lot, that Dirk so very clearly needs comfort, and Dave knows that he needs to handle the situation carefully. Being mad can go on the back burner, for now.

He takes a second to think about it. Really  _ think  _ about it, pull apart everything that happened before Dirk left. There’s got to be something that triggered this.

Dave squints, when it suddenly hits him. He had brushed it off when it happened, as being caught up in the moment, caught up in Karkat, but maybe… okay, maybe it was a little weird.

“Is this because you kissed me?” he asks.

And wow, saying it out loud is a lot more uncomfortable than he thought it would be. It makes his stomach flip. Makes him shift his weight and bite the inside of his cheek. His shoulders go a little tense again, but otherwise, he keeps watching Dirk.

A flinch, and Dirk visibly pales a little. He stops cutting the banana for a moment before resuming, latching his gaze on Dave, taking in Dave's body-language. 

Visibly biting the inside of his cheek, tensing up, shifting uncomfortably. Yeah, he figured as much. 

Turns out, everybody, Dirk Strider is the scum of the fucking universe. 

He wants to spit and hiss, get angry and defensive and get the  _ hell _ out of there so Dave won't continue in this line. 

Instead, he keeps perfectly silent, a small crease in his brow and his tense posture the only thing giving him away. The fact that he hasn't showered since they had sex with Karkat is also telling. 

But where would he go, huh? Dave's already mad at him, and Karkat's...  _ Karkat _ , do pitch people even sleep over? It doesn't matter, safe to say is that there's no way to make him  _ less _ angry right now. 

He's not thrilled to rile him up either, but if there's  _ one _ thing he  _ never _ wants to to open up about to anyone, it's  _ this exact thing _ .

Soundlessly, he desperately pleas for Dave to let it go. He puts the banana in the turned off blender.

When Dirk doesn’t say anything… Really,  _ nothing,  _ not even a biting remark or off handed curve. It hits Dave harder than anything Dirk could have possibly said.

Sympathy forces his posture to relax, and he’s taking another step toward Dirk again. “Look, I already forgot about that, okay? It happened. Maybe it was a little much. But I’m not mad about it. It’s not like you meant it.”

Even as he talks, though, flashes of all the other ways Dirk touched him that night play through his head like an awful, stop-motion movie. It makes him a little nauseous, but he stands by what he said. _ It didn’t mean anything. _

“You were just in the pitch-zone with Karkat and I happened to get caught in the line of fire. It’s fine.”

Dirk stops the motions of smoothie-making to gauge how far away they are from each other; still passable. 

Even then, it doesn't stop his eyes from widening in outrage and fear. 

Because he- he did mean it, in some twisted way. It did mean something to Dirk. Dave is making excuses, for him, and he feels his appetite wither out drily. 

"A kiss. A lil' more'n that, I'd say." It comes out as a hiss, but quiet, as if someone is listening. His shoulders are slowly climbing up towards his ears, and his face feels numb.

"Drop it. It's done." He rolling an apple against the cutting-board, not feeling very inclined to finish the job now. He's pretty sure Bro told him the exact same thing. He's pretty sure he told himself what Dave is currently telling him. 

He puts the knife on the cutting board quite carefully, leaning his hand on the counter instead, and turns his head away. A clear dismissal.

Dave doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stops moving toward Dirk, standing there in the middle of the kitchen like he’s lost. Maybe he is lost, he has no idea what the fuck he’s supposed to do. This whole thing is so far outside Dirk’s usual behavior, it’s hard to judge properly.

He trusts Dirk, though. He knows Dirk wouldn’t hurt him, not on purpose. Not after all the times he picked Dave up off the floor, after a particularly hard strife with their guardian. After putting Dave back together, patching him up, putting food in his belly. After packing Dave up and sneaking out in the middle of the night, finding them a new place to live, filing for _ custody. _

“It’s okay,” Dave says again. He’s moving again, on auto-pilot, unable to feel his own feet hit the floor, until he’s got his arms wrapped around Dirk from behind.

Usually, Dirk would hate this. Usually, Dave wouldn’t even try. But this isn’t  _ usual. _

“I’m fine,” he promises, but he’s not sure which one of them he’s trying to reassure. It  _ was  _ a gross thing to do, but it’s just Dirk. It’s just his brother. _ “I’m fine.” _

Suddenly there's arms around him, and something in him  _ panics _ because there's not  _ supposed _ to be arms around him-- and he's about to shove Dave away, but it's  _ Dave _ , and manages to grabs onto Dave's upper arms tightly instead, hitching on a breath suspiciously. 

It's the most painful thing he's probably had to hear. Never mind life with Bro. Never mind  _ fucking parent conferences _ , never mind crudely denied job applications.

Dave telling Dirk that the ugliest thing Dirk could ever do to him is  _ fine _ .

Bro is kicking him down when he gets up and it's  _ fine _ . Bro hasn't given them money for food and it's  _ fine _ . Bro tells him to open up wide and swallow, and he's  _ fine _ . 

Dave is  _ not fine _ . "You sound just  _ like _ me-" He starts, but then he freezes, mouth still open-

Fuck. 

Fuck. Fuck.

It feels like his head's been dunked in ice water, but he just presses his lips together. Too much. Got a little too fired up. That's what you fucking get, Dirk, shoulda listened to ol' Bro. Keep those walls up high, big boy, cause big boys don't cry. 

Almost idly, he tests Dave’s hold; he needs  _ out _ . 

Now.

Dirk’s panic is obvious and painful. It’s  _ so painful. _ Dave has never seen Dirk this upset-- or upset  _ at all,  _ and it pulls so fucking hard at Dave’s heart. He hates it.

He holds Dirk tighter when he gets the sense that he’s about to bolt.

“What does that mean?” he asks. “That I sound just like you…”

Dave’s mind is moving a mile a minute, trying to put the pieces together. Dirk is clearly feeling more than just guilty about touching Dave. He’s acting like it was some type of full on sexual assault. Like he targeted Dave on purpose, even though that’s not what happened.

_ You sound just like me. _

Dave’s blood runs cold.

That doesn’t mean… what it sounds like it means. Does it?

Did someone hurt Dirk? Was it--

“What does that mean, Dirk,” he demands again, as his voice threatens to crack.

Dirk lets go of Dave's arms, trying to push them between them, and his jaws click together, his teeth grinding as he feels a lump form in his throat. 

This  _ can't _ be happening. 

"Drop it," the hiss he forces through clenched teeth is soaking in mortification. His arms feels all weak and useless, he feels  _ lightheaded _ , what the fuck is even  _ happening right now _ . 

"Drop it,  _ fucks sake, Dave _ ." He shakes his head and takes a step back, trying somewhat halfassedly to wriggle himself out of the now much firmer embrace. 

He refuses. He  _ refuses _ to dig this up now, when Bro is far away from them and has no means of contacting them- this does  _ not _ need to see the day of light. 

" _ I don't want to talk about it _ ." You'd think, like this, he'd manage to channel some Bro anger, to raise his volume and shout and fight and push and  _ win _ . 

The fact remains, he gets  _ weaker _ . His voice goes soft and slightly higher in pitch, and his extremities feels like jello. His face stings as if in a blush, but it's probably from  _ lack _ of it.

It's funny really, how he can be Bro in the worst of ways, but he  _ can't _ when it really counts.

Dirk is breaking right in front of him. Ripping apart at the seams and oozing out onto the floor. It shatters Dave’s heart like he’s never felt before.

It hurts. It’s agonizing. It’s crushing him. He’s fucking crying. Fat, hot tears burning silently down his cheeks.

_ Why didn’t Dirk ever say anything? _

“You’re not… You’re not like him,” Dave says. It’s all he can think  _ to  _ say. He can’t even begin to fathom what Dirk is going though-- and that’s what he needs to focus on. He  _ doesn’t  _ know how Dirk feels, and that alone is proof enough that he’s actually fine with what happened the other day.

Before he can say that, though, the front door clicks as it’s unlocked, and  _ god fucking damnit,  _ Karkat,  _ not now. _

It startles Dave enough to let his grip on Dirk go a little lax.

There's nothing worse than choking on empathetic tears, but Dirk is doing his fucking  _ utmost _ , breathing shaky and his footing unsteady- 

_ But he is like him _ . He didn't  _ think _ , he didn't even see how it was wrong until  _ after _ , he- tried to rationalize it and it had felt good kissing Dave and  _ he's so fucking horrible! _

Dirk is just about to croak something out when he hears the door slam; for a mind spinning moment he's back in their old flat and he needs Dave to  _ go _ , hurry to their room- 

But it's only a moment, and Dave's hold on him is lax, and he manages to mostly stumble out of the hug. 

He staggers uncertainly away from Dave, on one hand  _ needing _ him to stop crying, because  _ fuck _ , he made Dave cry, he  _ knew _ he was going to make Dave cry, this is why they can't talk about shit like this-

But he also needs to get away. 

He looks over to the door, and there stands Karkat, and  _ fuck _ , he can't hold it in anymore, it just  _ hurts _ . 

Dirk's shoulders hunches up and tears spill behind his shades, then he's power walking to his room, opening it and closing it softly. 

The clack of his lock being wrung into place is loud, and after that, there's no sound coming out of Dirk's room.

Karkat only catches Dirk for a second, before the guy is taking off and locking himself in his room. He blinks, slowly, and turns to see Dave still standing in the kitchen. Holy shit, is Dave crying?

Karkat drops his things on the floor and rushes toward the kitchen, taking Dave’s wet cheek in one hand. If he was mad at Dirk before, he’s  _ furious _ now, for making Dave fucking cry. What the fuck?

“Dave? What’s going on?”

Dave gives out one croaky sob, hand going over Karkat's hand to keep it there, shaking his head a little.

Why didn't he  _ say _ anything! The more he thinks about it, the more it hurts his heart, thinking about Dirk's tight-lipped, pale frown. 

Yeah, they had a... a really fucking awful childhood but he never thought- fuck, he'd  _ never _ have thought-... 

He pulls Karkat into a hug, hiding his face in Karkat's neck, crying because he could  _ see _ how it hurt Dirk, how it knocked him off balance by just  _ mentioning it _ . 

He must've held that in for  _ years _ . 

"Fuck, Karkat..." He chokes it out, hands bunching up the material of the back of Karkat's shirt in their fists. " _ Fuck _ ."

He doesn't know what to say. He needs to calm down, he knows rationally. 

Having Karkat here for him right now, feels  _ great _ . Knowing that Dirk hasn't had anyone like this is  _ not _ great.


	5. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Karkat make up. I lied about this chapter being sexy, but NEXT CHAPTER...

Karkat holds Dave for a long time, listening to him cry in the middle of the kitchen. Eventually, he convinces Dave to come sit down on the couch. Eventually, Dave calms down enough for Karkat to ask him some real questions.

Dave stays oddly tight-lipped, though. He assures Karkat that he’s fine, that Dirk is fine, and that Dirk definitely had a very good reason for disappearing. He doesn’t elaborate any further than that, though, so Karkat forces himself to drop it.

They end up watching a movie and half falling asleep on the couch together, before finally going to bed.

The next day is quiet. A weird kind of tense that Karkat can tell Dave is trying to pretend isn’t actually tense at all. He keeps catching Dave’s eyes locked on Dirk’s door (which, surprise, Dirk still hasn’t come back out of) and he’s pretty close to calling the whole thing quits for now. Maybe Karkat needs to go back to his own apartment for a few days and give them all some space.

They’ve just finished eating dinner. _Quietly._ A forced, strained normalcy that is driving Karkat up the fucking wall. He’s about three seconds away from telling Dave he left his stove on and just getting the hell out of there.

For the most part, Dirk sleeps. 

Okay, he cries some, and then sleeps. 

It's maybe divided equally, who the fuck knows. 

He can hear the other two do their own funky thing, can hear plates clack and TV-action and soft talking, the bass of their voices coming through without actual meaning. 

Dirk feels a little lonely, but he doesn't want join in on the fun. 

He sighs deeply and falls asleep again. 

\--TT started pestering CG at 06:17 pm--   
TT: guess how long it's been since i've taken a shower 

It's not an apology, but Dirk is fucking awful at apologies anyway. If Karkat tells him to fuck off, he'll at least know where they stand, and he can cry about that some while he's being a crybaby extraordinaire anyways.

When Karkat’s phone vibrates on the table, the last thing he expects to see when he flips it over is Dirk Strider’s fucking handle on the screen.

The _nerve_ of the asshole, texting him from the other room after ghosting Karkat for a week and a half. He has half a mind to not even read it. Dirk doesn’t deserve the time of day, let alone Karkat’s attention.

...but he opens it anyway. Because he’s a glutton for punishment, he guesses.

CG: OH WOW, LOOK WHO KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS FUCKING CELLPHONE.  
CG: THE CASE HAS BEEN FUCKING CRACKED. SEND THE BOYS HOME.  
CG: IT TURNS OUT. IN FACT. THAT AT ANY POINT IN TIME IN THE LAST TEN FUCKING DAYS. HE COULD HAVE PICKED UP HIS PHONE. AND CALLED HIS FUCKING KISMESIS. AND HE CHOSE NOT TO.  
CG: FUCK YOU, BY THE WAY.

Several emotions go through Dirk while he reads; the first one actually being annoyance, because wow, rude? But it's also nice to see that Karkat's got that spark in him 

He's a fiery little shit. Dirk finds it adorable.

His heart also pushes a little harder when he sees 'KISMESIS'. That implies that they still are, which is more that he deserves. 

TT: Man, your dulcet tones wash over me and the world is alright again.   
TT: And yeah, I'll fuck you any day, Kitten, you know it.   
TT: For real though, it wasn't that I didn't want to contact you or anything, you know how it is. I give you a finger of weakness, you bite my whole hand off and blood is going off everywhere. The nurse is like 'Why the fuck would you do that' but you're just like 'it was a weakness'.   
TT: Anyway, 'Fucking' accepted, and I'm sending you a message now. Was that Die-Hard you were watching? I thought I heard it.

Karkat rolls his eyes. Dirk is as incomprehensible and annoying as ever, while still refusing to apologize. What did Karkat expect?

He leans his head in a hand, still looking down at his phone, as Dave gets up to clear the table.

CG: UNBELIEVABLE.  
CG: YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT ANYMORE.   
CG: AND I DO NOT “KNOW HOW IT IS.” HOW COULD I POSSIBLY “KNOW HOW IT IS” YOU DENSH, SELFISH MOTHERFUCKER.  
CG: WHAT DAVE AND I DO WHILE YOU’RE NOT AROUND IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.  
CG: MAYBE IF YOU ACTUALLY CARE TO KNOW HOW I AM, YOU SHOULD GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED, TAKE A SHOWER, AND COME TALK TO ME.

Dirk's slowly forming smirk takes a hit when he reads that he can't call him Kitten anymore, and he sits up in the bed slowly as he reads the rest. 

What a fucker. Well, yeah, he deserves it, at least most of it (the Dave comment downright _hurts_ ), but he's putting it on _real_ thick. 

Didn't Dave explain _anything._..? It would definitely explain more why Karkat is so prissy. 

TT: You wrote 'dense' wrong, for your information.   
TT: Sure seems like you got me all figured out, _Karkat_.   
TT: Do you even want to talk to me? Giving me some mixed signals here.

The phone drops on his pillow after he sends it, and he sighs out in slight anger. Okay, he totally deserved that. And they're pitch, so wanting or _getting_ any sympathy is probably out of the question. He usually likes that aspect. 

He glances to the phone and huffs, raking a hand through his dirty hair. 

Ew. Yeah, he can see the point of actually taking a shower. He still waits for Karkat's response, though. 

He doesn't quite know why, but he does.

Karkat narrows his eyes at the spelling correction. Okay, maybe he’s a little fucking worked up, but Dirk doesn’t need to point it out.

Over all, at least, the short series of messages seem to be… calmer. Maybe Dirk is actually willing to talk to him like an adult person. If that’s even something Dirk is capable of.

CG: OF COURSE I WANT TO FUCKING TALK TO YOU. WE HAVE A LOT TO TALK ABOUT.  
CG: EXCUSE ME FOR BEING A LITTLE PISSED OFF THAT YOU CHOSE TO REACH OUT VIA TEXT MESSAGE WHEN I’M LITERALLY IN YOUR FUCKING KITCHEN.  
CG: I DIDN’T THINK YOU WERE THAT MUCH OF A COWARD.

A beat passes. Karkat considers carefully what he wants to say next.

CG: WHATEVER HAPPENED WITH YOU, DAVE WON’T TELL ME. IT’S ALMOST MORE GODDAMN FRUSTRATING THAN THE FACT THAT YOU EVEN LEFT IN THE FIRST PLACE.  
CG: HE SEEMS TO THINK YOU HAD A GOOD EXCUSE THOUGH. SO RELAX. CLEAN YOURSELF UP. AND PRAY THAT WHEN YOU SEE ME, YOU STILL LOOK PATHETIC ENOUGH FOR ME TO RESIST KICKING YOUR SORRY ASS.

Oh, Dirk should just _relax_ , should he. He should look _pathetic_. 

Damn that pisses him off. He stands, going through the closet to find something _not_ smelling like a man-cave. 

T-shirt and slacks it is. He finds his good shampoo as well, inside his closet; the one he constantly tells Dave to _not_ steal from, which he _always steals from_. 

Before going out, he sighs and reads through the messages again, feeling that slight boiling in his gut. He's so… _ugh_. 

TT: It's fine that you're pissed, I get it.   
TT: But also fuck off about why, I don't want to talk about it and it's not about us..   
TT: PS: Only pathetic thing in the room will be how much you drool over my abs. 

If it was only Karkat, he'd flip the bird during the short way between Dirk's room and the bathroom, but since Dave is there, and they're being supremely awkward now, Dirk simply opens his door, opens the bathroom door, then slinks in, locking it. 

The shower that commences then is one of the best ever conceived. He takes his time to get rid of all the grime, get all nice-smelling and shit. 

It takes him a while to get clean by his own standards, but when he steps out and towels down he feels... better. 

More human, at least.

Karkat can only roll his eyes again as he reads the last message. Even in a serious conversation, Dirk can’t seem to take it completely seriously.

But he can hear Dirk’s door opening now, and that’s… at least a step in the right direction. As angry as he still is with Dirk, it doesn’t make him feel good to know that Dirk hasn’t showered. Has he eaten? Has he slept at all?

 _It’s not about us,_ Dirk had said. Implying that he still wants there to be a _them._ Karkat isn’t so sure how he feels about forgiving Dirk so easily, but… it’s inevitable that he _is_ going to forgive him. He’s known Dirk for a long time, even if they only just recently started to date, and maybe the new aspect on their relationship is clouding his judgement a little. Maybe he’s being too hard on Dirk, when he knows that Dirk can be… elusive, at the best of times.

He considers going in Dirk’s room to wait for him, but he’s reminded again by the fact that _Dirk hasn’t showered_ and his bedsheets are probably disgusting. Not that it’s necessary for Karkat to be in his bed...

You know what, fuck it, he’s just going to wait on the couch.

The living room is empty when Karkat enters, and… damn, when did Dave disappear? Maybe he sensed the incoming shit storm and didn’t want to be involved with it. Karkat can’t blame him. He does feel bad for not even noticing Dave leave, though. Talk about a hypocrite.

Since Dirk got a little light-headed from shampooing, he vetoes against styling his hair as meticulously as he usually does. It sounds like a pain. 

With a soft sigh of determination, he locks gaze with himself in the mirror, taking in the red puffiness under his eyes, the desperately deep circles, the sallowness of someone who has barely eaten and slept for a week. He's exasperated with the thought that he's very familiar with this face, maybe minus the crying. 

He ends up towel-drying his hair, then using some light product to at least pull his hair back in an informal slick. He looks too much like Dave with it down, too young. 

After putting his clothes and shades on, he steps out of the bathroom, immediately spotting Karkat on the couch. He glances around for Dave, almost nervously so, but can't find him. Was this a set up? 

Determined to not worry about it, he sits down on the opposite side of the couch, one knee against his chest, arm sprawling over the arm-seat. 

"Sup."

Karkat doesn’t know what he had expected, but… none of this is it. The casual way Dirk sits. The easy _sup._ The narrow cheeks and sunken in collar bones. The skinny frame of his arms. The withered shell of Dirk Strider, but with the same stone cold look on his face.

For a second, his mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out. Then…

“I missed you,” he blurts. Followed immediately by, “You look like shit.”

He furrows his brow with a frown. He had had so much more he wanted to say than that, but now it all seems kind of… irrelevant. Now that Dirk is actually sitting beside him again, the only thing he wants to do is shove him back off the couch. And then maybe tackle after him and kiss the shit out of him.

It’s been too long since Dirk kissed him.

Instead, he grits his teeth and lets his fingers curl into fists in his lap, because he _won’t_ be the first one to admit that. Especially when Dirk hasn’t even apologized yet. So instead he asks, “Have you eaten anything? There’s leftovers from dinner.”

One of Dirk’s eyebrows go up, in an obvious ‘ _why thanks_ ’ at Karkat’s kind words. He’s quite aware. 

He looks to Karkat, mostly so he can’t see the side of Dirk’s face, and inside his shades, checking him out unabashedly. He’s hot. He likes Karkat. He likes Karkat a lot, and seeing Karkat... _almost_ careful around him, like he’s some kind of delicate china is unacceptable. 

He’s so fucking tired though. 

“M’not hungry,” he sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. It’s almost childish of him, cause he’s aware he should eat. He just. Wow, this couch is _so comfy..._ And Karkat is calm and not shouting, so that’s a surprise. He’d imagined Karkat to be a bit more.. Explosive. 

“Look, I’m....” the apology sticks to his throat, cause he _really_ doesn’t want to say it to Karkat. Isn’t that against what being pitch is..? Man...

“Look, are we.... Are we over, cause, you know, just tell me if it’s over. You said we should talk but like, it’s obvious I’m not actually good at this shit. So, like, peace? Is that how we break up? That’s weirdly poetic, in a sense.”

Karkat frowns again, harder. He gives Dirk a disbelieving look, brows furrowed. There’s a lump forming in his throat, and he can’t swallow it down.

“Is that what you want? To break up with me?”

He tries not to let that hurt as much as it does. But it breaks his heart to think about, and it’s not at all what he wanted out of this reunion.

“If that’s what you want, then fine, but it’s not what I want. I _want_ you to tell me you’re fucking sorry. Do you still not even know what Kismesis means, Dirk?”

And _that_ hurts more than Dirk wanting to break up with him. Has he been stringing on a non-existent relationship with someone who doesn’t even feel the same way as him?

“Pitch is more than just hate, idiot. It’s just as deep and just as much a partnership as being Matesprites is. It’s picking apart each other’s flaws and pushing to be _better._ It’s accountability. It’s still being there for each other in the very worst of possible times. It’s seeing all the ugly, and staying together anyway. It’s support in knowing someone hates you more than you can hate yourself. It’s… ugh.”

Karkat has to stop to take a shaky breath. It’s stupid, trying to explain to a human who might not ever be able to understand. To Dirk, specifically, who doesn’t seem to understand Karkat _period._

He looks away from Dirk, frustrated and angry with himself for thinking this could ever work.

“That’s why you don’t _leave,_ Dirk, because indifference hurts.”

Dirk listens, a lump forming in his own throat. He... He really _hurt_ Karkat. And he really doesn’t know how kismesissitude works. Why doesn’t he know?

He lets go of the relaxed pose he’s forced himself in, setting his foot down, crawling over to Karkat on the couch. He hesitantly puts a hand on Karkat’s thigh, pressing his lips together and taking off his shades. He meets Karkat’s gaze briefly before looking down at the shades, brows furrowing together. 

“I don’t- no, I don’t want this to-... I... _fuck._ ” He’s too scared, this is what he gets when he’s too _fucking_ much of a coward to open up... “I’m.... sorry.”

He turns so he’s facing Karkat fully, smoothing his hands up and down his thighs slowly, obviously struggling. He still won’t meet Karkat’s eyes.

“I... Ugh, it’s not an excuse, I... am really fucked up, okay. These past... what, four days, it’s been. Not good. And. Uh.” He opens his mouth to continue, but he can’t seem to find the words. “And I was- I was honestly gonna stay, I don’t want you to wait on me, I’m- _not_ indifferent, I…” He groans unhappily, leans forward and rests his forehead on Karkat’s shoulder, kind of ready for Karkat to shove him off. 

“I’m not good with words, Karkat. I should have used this time to research quadrants, but I even fucking failed at that, so. I don’t even know what to say. I was... fucked up about shit that happened a long time ago, and you got the short end of a really short stick, and. That’s. Not fair to you. It’s not... I didn’t know what I was signing up for, but -...”

Even more hesitatingly, he wraps his arms around Karkat, a small shiver going through him. 

“I don’t want this to turn bad. I... Liked... Like what we have, shit. I dunno if you can hate me more than I do, but I... Yeah. Shut me up, please.”

Karkat can only let his eyes go wide, his mouth forced shut as he listens to Dirk break down right in front of him. It hits him like a punch in the gut, the red of Dirk’s eyes, the purpling around the edges of them. The _emotion_ he can clearly see in them. The hurt, the struggle, anxiety.

Combined with the the _grossly_ incorrect understanding Dirk has of how long he was gone, the pleading words, the shaking hands on Karkat’s body… It’s so far removed from who Dirk usually is as a person.

He fucking hates it. He hates every microscopic second of it.

And maybe it wasn’t fair of him to expect Dirk to understand the intricacies of a pitch romance. But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to give up on it.

He wraps his arms around Dirk’s pitiful form (and god help him, if he starts to _pity_ Dirk, too) and hugs him tight. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just holds Dirk, lets him stay wrapped up and hidden for a few quiet moments. Eventually, he tucks a finger under Dirk’s chin to bring him up into a kiss.

Somehow, as much as Karkat was the one that needed the kiss before, it seems like Dirk needs it even more now. It’s long, closed-mouthed, comforting. Just quietly moving his lips against Dirk’s in a way that he hopes says _it’s okay now._

When he finally pulls away, he looks at Dirk’s disgustingly gaunt face, his raw eyes. “Thank you for being honest with me,” he says. “If you don’t know that this type of relationship is what you want, I can wait until you figure it out. We can just… what do humans call it? Hate-friends with benefits?”

It’s a round about way to say that he doesn’t want to stop fucking Dirk, but he’s willing to put his feelings on hold if Dirk isn’t ready to return them yet.

“And I’m sorry for… pressuring you. After whatever else you were already going though, I was probably a little harsh.”

Dirk takes the few moments of offered shelter gratefully, swallowing away the painful lump in his throat, hands clenching further on the fabric of his (thank god, still) pitch-partner. The sigh he lets out just slightly trembling. 

He feels a finger gently guiding his head up, and he follows easily, a little stiff with remaining nerves still. 

It melts away though, as Karkat brings their lips together. He's not sure he's ever had a kiss like this, a simple press of lips that slowly makes the tension in his shoulders melt, makes his eyes flutter shut and makes his breath smooth out.

Then it's over. He feels like he could have kissed Karkat for at least a couple hours longer, it was so easy. He still feels naked and raw when Karkat's sharp gaze takes him in, sees his sorry state and not-so-chill demeanor, but he finds... He finds that it's okay, this one time. Maybe it's okay, if it's just _Karkat._ No, not _just._ Because it's _Karkat._

"Yeah, any... time, man..." He lets Karkat's _'hate-friends with benefits'_ sink in, and he can't help the small little chuckle that shakes his frame; he catches himself off guard with it. "-uh. Sorry, didn' mean to... just... _hate-friends with benefits..._ Dude." he chuckles a little more, the way it makes his eyes squint up a little and dimples show significantly improving his gaunt complexion. So he's heard, anyway.

He looks more like Dave like this. 

"I dunno about you, but I'm not going through all of this drama to stay _hate-friends with benefits._ That's so basic. Are you a basic bitch, Karkat? Don't answer, you watch rom-coms." He's obviously trying to save his own dignity a little, but the teasing is warm, he's still smiling. 

He presses his lips gently against Karkat's again, searchingly. He moves a hand up to pinch a lock of hair near Karkat's hornbed and gives it a tug, humming before moving back. 

"...Fuck it. Let's be hatemates." He grins, pulling them a little closer to each other, hoping to god he'll be able to prevent more fuck ups.

Karkat isn’t positive that he can trust that Dirk suddenly understands the full spectrum of what it means to be pitch. The guy just admitted that he didn’t know what he was getting into the first time he said it, what makes this time any different? But… fuck, if Karkat doesn’t want to believe him.

“Good,” he says. “Because I am finding you downright the fuck deplorable right now, and I don’t know if I could have kept it platonic.” And it’s true. It’s easier to slip back into hate from that dangerous pity territory he was just dancing in, now that Dirk is back to being somewhat normal. He was sure Dirk was going to cry there for a second, and Dirk Strider doesn’t cry.

Dirk Strider pushes his fucking buttons and calls him a basic bitch for trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He gives Dirk one more kiss, though it’s less of a kiss and more of a bite to his bottom lip. He gently pushes Dirk off of him and moves to stand up. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a second. It’s bad form to let your kismesis actually fucking die, so I’m going to get you some food. And then I’m going to make you eat it while you suffer through one of my _basic bitch romcoms._ Maybe it’ll teach you a thing or two about how to hate me properly.”

He doesn’t give Dirk the chance to argue with him before he walks away. He’s only gone for a few minutes, long enough to microwave some leftovers, and then he’s back. He sits right next to Dirk on the couch, hip to hip, and puts the plate in Dirk’s hands with no room for protest.

Dirk takes the bite with a sharp little, gasp, though it's followed by another little grin, this time infinitely more impish. 

"Not sure you could'a kept it in your pants either, sweetheart." He lets his accent drip heavily from the words, then groaning as Karkat threatens him with a movie and food. 

"Come on, dude, I'm not gonna learn shit from that fabricated bull, and you _know it,"_ he groans after Karkat as he walks over to the kitchen and starts snooping in their fridge. It feels very easy indeed, to slip into the bickering back-and-forth with Karkat, irking him. 

He gently closes the chest in his heart that still holds sore and roiling emotions, putting it away for inspection later. 

He doesn't lock it though. 

"..." The food looks good. He still looks resignedly at it, his shoulders hunching up a little- then he blinks and seems to catch himself, glancing over to Karkat. With a huff, he grabs the fork stabs into a vegetable, popping it into his mouth. 

"Mmh." A groan of relief, and a deep grumble in his stomach, and he chews slowly. Takes another bite. 

He eats like a fucking bird, or at least as slow as one, but the food is getting eaten. If Karkat can't deal, that's his problem. 

"'s pretty good. Gotta be Dave's work, huh?" A flirty little smirk twitches at the corner of his lips, eyes on the food. He takes another bite, more enthusiastically. 

Another sigh; _damn_ he was hungry. "Mind gettin' me a glass of water too...? Oh shit, or a glass'a orange juice?" He's hunched over the plate like a gremlin, one hand on the plate and the other holding the fork.

Karkat is quiet while he watches Dirk start to eat. It’s like the guy didn’t even know how hungry he was, until he tasted food again. He hopes… he really hopes this isn’t the first thing Dirk has eaten in ten days.

He rolls his eyes when Dirk asks for water, though, and immediately flips him off. “What am I, your fucking maid now? And for your information, Dave and I made it _together._ Dave can’t cook for shit without me, and neither can you.”

Despite what he says, he gets up anyway. He makes a big huff about it though, as he stomps back out into the kitchen. He doesn’t know what Dirk actually needs more, the water or the orange juice, so he grabs both of them. Because he’s just a _great fucking boyfriend._

He sets both glasses on the coffee table when he returns, and sits right back in his same spot from before. This time, though, he picks up the x-box controller and starts to bring up Troll Netflix. He wasn’t kidding about making Dirk watch a movie with him.

“How do you feel about pirates?” he asks.

A grin steals over Dirk’s face at Karkat's obvious fuss about getting a simple glass of water; he's just so fucking dramatic, it's hilarious. 

When Karkat comes back he gives him a soft thanks and clonks the side of his head with Karkat's, spreading his legs a little just so he can have Karkat's thigh closer to his own. 

"Pirates are fine, I guess," he says noncommittally, giving a small shrug. If it's _pirates_ there's at least not a lot of soap-opera going on. He can live with that. 

Dirk takes a sip of the water, then a bigger one. Then a sip of the orange-juice. He sighs out softly, in obvious bliss. 

The plate is only a little over half finished, but he sets it down for now, leaning back against the couch, sinking into the pillows. Takes another sip orange-juice. 

This talk is turning out _a lot_ better than expected. 

He taps his bare foot against Karkat's, just to annoy him, suddenly realizing that he's missed Karkat, missed his body heat. 

Yeah, he's definitely gonna fall asleep ten minutes in. _Definitely._

Karkat ignores Dirk, because basically everything he’s doing is annoying. The tapping, the drink swapping, the half finished food. Stupid.

At least Dirk ate some of it, though.

He clicks on the movie and immediately launches into an explanation that more or less makes watching the movie pointless. He doesn’t stop talking until the entire opening credits are done with (and you know, the _title_ sequence.) He’s pretty sure that Dirk isn’t following what he’s saying, but he’s actually enjoying the one sided conversation, and if it’s pissing Dirk off, that’s even better. 

He doesn’t notice the hand that has settled itself comfortably on Dirk’s thigh, or the way he’s leaning into Dirk’s shoulder. He just fucking _missed_ Dirk, and he missed being close to him, even if it’s not sexual.

Okay, maybe it’s always going to be sexual. But right now, he’s okay with it not being. Later though… he has big plans for what he found in Dirk’s closet. He’s been doing a lot of research since he found it. Reading a lot of articles. Watching a lot of videos. And he knows exactly what he wants. Now to just get Dirk to agree.

Dirk rolls his eyes as Karkat starts ranting approximately _one second_ after the movie starts. Not that he really cares all that much, because the movie is utterly uninteresting, and Karkat's voice, though loud, goes kind of monotone as he really starts getting into the grit of why Angelina and Bradjelina are _totally meany for each other_ in this particular quadrant and blaaah... blaaah... 

Wow, Karkat's shoulder is sooo comfy... His hand on Dirk's thigh is big and warm, and he sighs and nuzzles a little into his sweater, breathing in deeply through his nose. Is he still yammering on? Hmm, but his voice is a little scratchy, and surprisingly deep, and... He yawns covertly, turning a little towards Karkat and making a _'mmmmhm'_ sound, like yeah, he's totally listening to whatever he's blabbering on about. 

In the end, it takes _less_ than ten minutes for Dirk to conk the fuck out. Dirk blames Karkat's very, very boring analysis.


	6. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat gives Dirk what he deserves.
> 
> CW: sounding and (unrelated) pain play

Actually, Dirk spends a lot of the next day sleeping. He spends the rest of it with both Dave and Karkat. In the beginning, it’s stiff and tightlipped, but the more he sees that the two of them are doing alright; actually, seeming to be a lot closer than when Dirk left, which is sweet, Dirk seems to slowly enter his element again. 

If there's an opportunity to irk or annoy Karkat, he takes it. He researches black romance furiously online, and makes sure his browser is full of MLP porn if anyone should check. 

A couple more days goes by, and Dirk feels like  _ himself _ again. Still a little sallow-cheeked, but that spark is  _ back _ . 

More than a spark, Dirk muses as he curses and moves with the controller, shaking it a little, "You're  _ cheating _ Vant-ass, no--  _ nooo _ ..." He groans and leans back as Karkat's racecar shoots past the finish-line, and he smacks his own forehead, giving Karkat a small kick in annoyance.

"I don't get it. You suck at programming but you're good at  _ this _ ? Beginner's luck, I'm guessing." He snarls in irritation, biting into a burrito and huffing.

Karkat scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You couldn’t beat me at this game, if I had my arms tied behind my back,” he says.

Over the last few days, Dirk has come back to being on a mostly normal level. Karkat’s both grateful and completely fucking pissed off. He forgot how insufferable the older Strider was, and there was a _ reason  _ he hated him so much. His feelings may have been a little soft, when Dirk first came home, but his black flames are burning as bright as ever now.

And specifically, right now, he could just about rip Dirk’s fucking head off. And now that he thinks about it...

“In fact,” he continues. “If you can beat me, I’ll  _ let you  _ tie my hands behind my back.” He glances over at Dirk once, before looking back toward the screen. “But if I win again, I get to do you. Sound fair?”

Brows hikes over pointy shades, and Dirk turns slowly towards Karkat. A slow smirk starts on his face. 

"Aww,  _ Kittycat _ .... If you wanted to be tied up so badly, you only needed to  _ ask _ ..." 

Behind the smirk, Dirk is jittery with excitement. While he's been very grateful for Karkat's understanding and chill when it came to his...  _ Not _ chill, he wants... What they had. He wants rough kisses and unrestrained humping and Karkat mewling as Dirk twists his fingers  _ just _ so in his nook. 

Or, it seems, he wants Karkat tied up and helpless. That sounds pretty good too. Actually, Dirk's bed is already equipped for it, and Dave is not home. That's basically a free ticket to fuck around. 

Heat starts blooming in him, and he snickers to let out some energy, his leg starting to bounce. And honestly, if Karkat wins,  _ so what _ . What's he gonna do, edge him a little and then ride him? That sounds like a  _ win _ . He's in a win-win situation, and Karkat thinks he'll say no to some bondage? 

Joke's on  _ him _ . 

He chooses his player, running a hand through his hair. "Choose your player, Kitten, I have a game to win."

Every single time Dirk calls him Kitten, or Kittycat, or Karkitty, or any variation of his name combined with human meowbeast, it only proves to him even more just how much he loathes Dirk. He hates the nickname, and he hates that he has yet to come up with one to fight back with.

“Good luck, shit head,” is what he says instead. He picks a character at random, because it doesn’t matter, because he’s going to  _ win. _

The match starts, and he lets Dirk pull ahead. He wants to  _ fucking crush _ that bastard, and nothing will be sweeter than letting him think he’s going to win, only to be obliterated at the last second.

Laps one and two around the track go smoothly. It’s in the third lap, the final one, when Karkat finally pulls ahead and zips onto victory. He’s grinning so widely when he crosses the finish line, he’s sure Dirk has never seen anything like it.

Calmly, he sets his controller down on the coffee table and turns to Dirk. He leans in close and presses a hot, teasing kiss to Dirk’s neck. “Got any rope for me to use, sweet thing?”

Dirk got cocky. At first it didn't seem like Karkat was even trying, and some part of him got smug because haa, Karkat just  _ wants _ to be tied up, and this was his pitch-way of saying it. 

He was second on the first lap, first on the second lap, and he kept giving Karkat glances on the last lap like, ' _ are you even trying? _ '

And then,  _ somehow _ , Dirk is not even sure HOW he did it, which is the most annoying part, Karkat zooms past him in the last second and-

And he  _ lost _ . That absolute  _ fucker _ . 

When Karkat gives him a kiss, he bristles in anger, a short growl of irritation thick in his throat. "You fucking  _ cheated again _ , Vantas..." He glares at Karkat, shades off as they have been these past couple days. 

But what is he to do? Ask for a rematch? That's pathetic. He gives Karkat a harsh peck on the lips, then stands up brisky; he can't even hide his irritation. 

Okay, chill. What was it he thought earlier? Yeah; what is Karkat to do  _ anyway _ with Dirk tied up? It can be hot. It  _ will _ be hot. Karkat will probably have some fun, bite and nip at him and then ride his dick like a champ, and he'll think he's the ultimate winner in this. 

He will be completely wrong, of course. 

"Well, c'mon then  _ Kitten _ ." His irritation still bleeds out in his voice, but a smirk is starting to lilt on his lips as he tries twisting the situation to his advantage. He opens the door to his room, flipping the switch and heading over to his bed; it's clean, his whole room is. He  _ usually _ likes it tidy. 

Dirk pulls out already attached cuffs from underneath his bed, flipping them onto the mattress one by one, then checks if the padding is alright, even though he's positive they are. He's used them on a couple of one night stands before Karkat, though only once or twice on himself. 

He holds Karkat's gaze, then flops on to his back on the bed, snorting. "Well, here you go, princess. Do your  _ worst _ ." He says it as sarcastically as he can, smirk showing off teeth and some gum.

Karkat is  _ delighted  _ to watch Dirk get all worked up over a stupid game. Dirk is  _ mad  _ and it’s  _ fucking hilarious. _

He hadn’t expected Dirk to take him immediately to his room, but he’s not going to complain. Dirk’s anger only fuels him on. He crawls on the bed after Dirk and can’t help kissing the frown on his face. He kisses Dirk hard, biting at his lips and licking into his mouth. He works open Dirk’s pants while he kisses him, and suddenly realizes…

He’s never even seen Dirk naked before. The bastard has never even taken his fucking clothes off when they had sex. Well, things are about to fucking change, whether Dirk is prepared for it or not.

He all but rips at Dirk’s clothes until they all hit the floor. He’s grinning now, as he fits Dirk’s wrists and ankles into the straps. He didn’t actually know Dirk had these attached to the bed and… well, it’s at least convenient. He doesn’t have time to think about what else that means about Dirk.

He takes a seat over Dirk’s stomach, still with all his own clothes on. “Are you ready to show me you’re vulnerabilities, Dirk? Open up for me and let me know how much you need me?”

Dirk kisses back just as ferociously, maybe a tad bit more so because of his loss. He wants to gain back all those stupid smirks and grins Karkat is using, no matter how attractive they are, because  _ he _ should have won.

With a moan, he lets--  _ let's _ being the operative word here-- Karkat lick into his mouth, swirling their tongues together headily. When clothes starts coming off, his hands automatically try to help Karkat out with his, but the bastard is efficient for fucking once, and suddenly he's on his back and Karkat is fastening his hands in, still fully clothed. He went for the ankles as well, which Dirk kind of assumed he wouldn't, but whatever.

God  _ damnit _ ??? 

He gives the straps a good hard tug, almost checking out his own handiwork. It's good. 

Uhhh, what's that about vulnerability? Not sure he signed up for all that jazz when he played M*rio Cart. 

Dirk huffs, tossing his head back a little, and though his face is a little darker than normal he looks pretty put together. "Oh, is that how my punishment will be? I  _ have _ to listen to all your lectures? Please let me out, this is already tortuuure..." 

The snicker is half real, half just to piss Karkat off. While he's pretty sure Karkat will be more than manageable, he is curious to see what he'll do when he gets  _ proper _ mad. 

It might be the masochistic side of him that figures he should do that when tied up.

“Oh, Dirk…” Karkat coos, and he pets a hand down Dirk’s cheek. “I wonder how much longer you’ll be able to keep up the act, after I show you what I found.”

He’s still grinning ear to ear as he eyes Dirk one more time. Then, he gets up and he’s on his way to Dirk’s closet. He stoops down and opens the box at the bottom of it. He grabs several things, but most importantly, he grabs a little fabric pouch. It’s firm, zips along the sides, and holds inside the thing he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about.

He dumps his tools back on the bed and straddles Dirk again, this time over his thighs. He holds the fabric case in his hands, and looks Dirk dead in the eye.

“You know what this is, right? I didn’t know what it was at first, and let me tell you how shocked I was when I googled it. Why do you have a thing like this, Dirk? Hm?”

He settles his fingers on the pull of the zipper, watching Dirk carefully as he starts to tug it open.

Dirk only huffs at Karkat’s cooing, rolling his eyes lightly. Yeah, yeah, sure thing, he’s shaking in his boots and all that. Why is Karkat getting off him though...? 

His eyes follows Karkat at he heads over to his closet, and his smirk slowly slips off his face. Okay? Uhh, is he gonna go snoop? There’s some things over there he might not want Karkat to get his mitts on… 

Ah, but then Karkat is back, straddling his thigh and looking… Really fucking ominous if he may say so about his pitch-bitch. He looks down. Sees a familiar fabric case, looks back up to Karkat. 

He pales visibly. 

Oh. 

_ Shit _ . 

“Uuuuuuhhh, Karkat...” His voice is a forced calm, and he swallows a little, throat suddenly dry, “I’m not sure you know exactly what you’re doing here, dude.” 

Something akin to fear coils in his gut, makes his inner thigh and knees feel like jello, ice curling up to clutch at his chest. 

His dick gives a traitorous twitch, the bastard. 

“I’m just saying, like, first of all when the  _ fuck _ were you in my closet, insert gay-joke here by the way, and second of all, have you  _ seen my closet dude _ , I have so much shit and you focus on  _ that _ ?”

When he hears how he’s slowly getting more high-pitched he stops his rambling, looking between Karkat and the case, and he swallows again. 

Oh  _ god _ , he always wished fear boners weren’t a thing…

Karkat counts it as the highest victory when Dirk calls him by his first name, and not  _ Kitten.  _ The way the color leaves Dirk’s face and he starts to ramble really feeds his ego, too.

“Are you scared, Dirk?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound even slightly sorry. He unzips the pouch the rest of the way and folds it open, turning his eyes down on the contents. Eight bars line the inside of the case, surgical steel, slightly bent, all varying in diameter.

He turns the case to let Dirk see, but he knows that Dirk knows exactly what he has.

“I know more than you think,” he assures. He runs a grey finger down one of the bars, then the next, then the next. He selects the one third from the end, the third smallest size, and slips it out of the case.   


He sets the case down beside them on the bed and holds the rod between two fingers, examining it. He looks up at Dirk again, his own heart hammering in his chest. He can’t understand why Dirk would ever want to do a thing like this, but the excessive reading he did about it and the look in Dirk’s eyes is pulling it all together.

“It’s a good thing you already kept sanitary lube and wipes in that disgusting little box of yours. Saved me the trouble of having to go out and buy it.”

"I'm not fucking  _ scared _ ,” Dirk says. Is his breath coming out a little fast? Dirk wants to check his own pulse, but he's currently being  _ restrained in his own bed with Karkat carefully examining his sounding rods _ . 

He never- of all the things he'd  _ wanted _ Karkat to raid out of his closet, his sounding kit was probably on the  _ bottom three _ . It's- private. _ Extremely private.  _ Something he doesn't  _ use _ with other people. It's- fucking...  _ God _ , Karkat chose the third smallest one-...

He's not sure if the prickling in his face is a blush or him losing more colour. His eyes are glued on Karkat, on the careful way he's holding the bar up, teasingly presenting it to Dirk as if he hasn't had his  _ dirty fucking clepto-hands on them already _ . 

His ego takes another blow at Karkat's degrading talk, and he tries hunching up a little but hah- he's spread eagle. His dick is at a decent half-chub just from the situation, and Dirk has never felt so... Thoroughly  _ outmatched _ before. 

He lost the game, which now seems very trivial. He underestimated Karkat, which he's now  _ deeply _ regretting, and... And he wants this, fuck it all to high heavens, he's so fucking into it, the excitement alone is making his breath come out a bit short. 

"Shut up Karkat. I know seeing my extensive toy-collection had your nook throbbing, but you don't need to get all jealous about it." It comes out weak though, and he can't seem to rip his eyes away from the toy.

Karkat is more than pleased with Dirk’s reactions. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he finally got this far, but it’s so perfect. Dirk is _ mad.  _ Dirk is flustered. Dirk is coming apart, just knowing that Karkat knows about his secrets.

He hasn’t even touched Dirk yet, and the guy is getting hard.

He doesn’t answer Dirk as he reaches for a sanitary wipe. He starts with the rod, thoroughly wiping it down. Then his hands. Then Dirk’s dick. His research has told him that everything needs to stay as clean as possible, or Dirk could end up getting hurt. And he doesn’t want to  _ actually _ hurt Dirk, just knock his ego down a few pegs. That’s probably even worse than physical pain for the bastard, honestly.

When everything is clean, he takes up the medical grade lube. As he carefully squeezes it along the rod, he wonders if he should have worn gloves for this. Would that have upped Dirk’s humiliation even further? To be worked on like an experiment instead of a person?

Another time. He’s got more than enough planned for this time, he thinks.

When the rod is prepared, he moves on to squeezing some of the lube over Dirk’s dick. He knows he’s being slow. It’s partially for show, partially to make Dirk squirm, and also because he doesn’t want to mess anything up. Karkat is nothing, if not thorough.

He spends longer than he needs to spreading lube over Dirk’s cock. It’s not necessary, for the whole thing to be slick, but he figures that he can let Dirk have this. Gentle strokes with just his hand, before things really take a turn. He flashes Dirk a smile as his hand stills, staying wrapped around his dick. “I’d ask if you’re ready, but you’ll probably just fight me some more, won’t you?” he asks.

The hand on Dirk’s cock holds him steady while he positions the rod at his slit. Dirk isn’t all the way hard yet, which is perfect. The internet has provided him that it will be safer and easier to do, if Dirk is soft. Well, he’s not soft, but it’s good enough, so Karkat presses the end of the toy inside.

It’s surprisingly easy. It just… slips right in with minimal resistance. Supposedly, it should work that way the rest of the way down, too. Dirk’s body should open up for it on it’s own, without Karkat having to push, so he simply holds Dirk steady and waits.

He watches as it slowly disappears, the copious amount of lube he used helping it to easily sink inside. It takes a while, but Karkat isn’t keeping track. His eyes stay fixed on the rod, until it stops moving.

He glances up at Dirk now, just to see how he’s doing. “Are you okay?” he asks.

Dirk shakes his head a little; it just can't be happening. His stomach clenches and is breath stops, and whether Dirk thinks it's a good idea or not, the rod is pressed against his slit. He goes carefully still, knowing that moving will jostle it, he might hurt himself, he might freak Karkat out- 

When it slides in, slowly but without resistance, Dirk lets out half a shaky breath, holding back an automatic, whimpery sigh. The cool metal slides and tingles smoothly against the rim of his slit, and he watches as it sinks into him without trouble, mesmerised as usual. 

Now, when relief hits and he's assured Karkat knows what the fuck he's doing, his blush rages up, colouring his face darkly. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . 

As the rod slides in, clear lube pushes out obscenely, beading around the thickness of the rod before starting to run down his length, over Karkat's fingers.

Karkat was being so methodical about doing this, too. He can't possibly see how this could feel good, how it would feel good to have the stretch, to have something cool and thick and impersonal  _ invade _ his most tender and private part- just as he thinks that, the metal slides past a familiar point, and Dirk gives off an almost inaudible gasp, jolting without moving. 

Oh god, he's in deep.  _ Karkat _ is in deep, he thinks deliriously, feeling like could faint. He swallows, only registering now that, oh, Karkat has been talking to him, it seems.

Red-faced, softly panting and slack-jawed, he tries desperately to seem less affected. His cock tries hardening up further, and he gives Karkat a mewling little sound as it makes his cock  _ ache _ . It softens back to the more pliable half-chub, knowing that eventually, should Karkat want it, he'll come around the rod no problem. 

"-...Huhh..." He releases the last of his breath, quickly taking another one in and holding it, his cock twitching hard. "Fine." He manages to squeeze out. 

His knees twitch together, or try to, his knee brushing against Karkat's leg as it does. 

"Done-... research, have you?" He tries finding something clever to say, but finds that he can't muster up the brains to even contemplate a response much. All his thoughts are directed to his cock, to how the coolness is slowly warming, how the ache recedes a little as he gets used to the intrusion. 

How Karkat might fuck the rod in and out of him, and how he wouldn't be able to help it. How he wouldn't want to help it either. He meets Karkat's eyes, but has to look away quickly, because it's  _ too much _ . He's reminded of pack-animals avoiding the gaze of an alpha, and feels ashamed for connecting those dots.

Karkat doesn’t miss the way Dirk reacts when the rod hits something deep inside him. He’s learned that there’s a human pleasure gland at the end of this expedition… and the rod should pass right through the middle of it. He must have found it already.

Instead of letting Dirk know he knows this, though, he keeps one hand around Dirk’s dick to keep it steady. He reaches for one of the other items he’s brought up onto the bed with them. He comes up with a set of shiny clover clamps, connected by a chain.

“I thought the sound would be a lot for you, Dirk, but I couldn’t stop with just that…” he says. He brings one of the clamps up and secures it to one of Dirk’s nipples then the other. “Needed an extra… little something, to push you that much further down.”

It’s another thing Karkat doesn’t understand, without nipples of his own, but with both clamps in place, he tugs on the chain, just to see how Dirk will react. He strokes Dirk’s cock a few times, with the rod still stuffing it full.

He lets the hand stroking Dirk come up to a stop, with two fingers gripping the rod now. Gently, he pulls it out about halfway, before pushing it back in. He fishes for that spot in Dirk, the one that made him react so beautifully the first time. He ruthlessly thrusts the rod right through it, over and over, in and out again. He tugs at the chain again.

“Are you ready for more, Dirk?” he asks.  _ Because there’s more. _ He wants Dirk to fucking break, to be begging Karkat to take care of him by the time this is over. He wants Dirk to  _ need him. _

The whole thing makes him hot between his legs, but he’s managed to keep it mostly under control so far. This isn’t about him, right now. He might not even get off today, and that’s fine. He just wants to watch Dirk suffer.

Too much. Too much, it's too much, and Dirk gives off two dangerous twitches, one for each time Karkat fastens a clamp onto his nipples. It's embarrassing enough that each breath he pants out is audible and ends in a small sound that he refuses to call a moan... 

When Karkat pulls, he  _ keens _ . His dick twitches in Karkat's grip, and it's another delicious mix that it aches as it tries to harden, and fails again. Despite that, the arousal it ignites in him  _ roars _ . He kind of feels like tears are starting to gather up, if only in absolute mortification. 

Safe to say, if Karkat is doing this to wreck him, he's doing a great job. "Uhhn-..." He grits his teeth together. His nipples  _ hurt _ , and the zing of it makes him restless, makes him want to arch his back and push his chest out and move his hips away from Karkat's firm hand, as much as he wants to fuck into it. 

But he  _ can't _ . The realization of it hits him again, the helplessness of it. He can't physically escape it, he can’t escape the pain, he can't escape Karkat fucking his dick, something he has only dared to do in  _ strict _ privacy, in the middle of the night, fantasizing shamefully about just this. Being dominated like this.

It makes something in him shake, more than his hands do when they grip at the restraints in his desperate need to hold onto  _ something _ .

He keeps on panting, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling at the continuous, throbbing, stinging ache of his familiar clover clamps pinching sensitive skin and nerves. "... _ Fuck _ , Karkat." He hisses it out quietly, bowing his head. He wants to thrash, but he  _ needs _ to be still, and being forced to be obediently still, strapped down without an out is... So hot. 

Karkat is so hot, he's so fucking good at this! What the  _ fuck!  _

"I  _ hate _ you." If he didn't understand it before, he sure as fuck does  _ now _ . "I hate you, I fucking  _ hate _ you, you  _ bitch _ -" he chokes on his own breath, wheezing out another small keen. Careful to not jostle his neither region he tugs as hard as he can at the restraints on his arms, but they won't budge, like he knew they wouldn't. 

"You're such a--" a dry sob, and he growls over it, slitted eyes glaring at Karkat. He's never  _ felt _ this before, this desperate need to win, but not  _ being able to even try _ . He usually  _ wins _ . 

He doesn't know if he can, this time. 

He sure as fuck won't make this easy for him, though.

There’s butterflies in Karkat’s stomach, listening to Dirk tell him over and over that he hates him. Does Dirk get it now? It sure  _ sounds _ like he gets it. Sounds like Dirk has more feelings than Karkat ever gave him credit for.

Feelings for  _ Karkat. _

His heart is racing as he drops the chain in his hands. He gives Dirk’s cock a few more good strokes, loving every second of Dirk’s obvious frustrations. Karkat could literally do anything to Dirk right now, and Dirk would just take it. Wouldn’t have a choice. Karkat will have to be careful to watch, make sure nothing gets to be too much.

Well, he’s sure  _ Dirk _ already thinks this is too much. But Karkat isn’t done yet.

He plans to keep Dirk trapped, right in between too much pleasure and a sharp, biting pain. How long will Dirk last, if Karkat keeps ripping his orgasm away? He can’t  _ wait  _ to find out.

So he picks up one of the many more clamps he’s brought along. There are probably ten of them, shiny, a different shape from the ones attached to Dirk’s chest. More like clothes pins. He’s sure that Dirk can’t see him, but it doesn’t stop him from running it teasingly from the tip of Dirk’s cock, down over his balls, to between his legs.

He nudges it at Dirk’s perineum, eyes flicking up to see if Dirk realizes what’s happening yet. Carefully, he presses the clamp open, strokes it soothingly over Dirk’s skin again, before letting it settle into place.

The skin of Dirk’s perineum pulls tight inside the clamp, and even just looking at it makes Karkat wince. He soothes an open palm over Dirk’s thigh, comforting as he watches the clamp just…  _ stay there. _

“I wonder how many more of these you can handle, Dirk?” he asks. "You're taking it so well..." His own voice is breathless as he touches the clamp, moving it ever so slightly. He thrusts the sound at the same time, abusing Dirk's prostate through the pain.

Dirk is so lost in the hazy mix of pleasure and pain, so when Karkat smoothes a cold metal piece against Dirk’s perineum, all he can do it shiver and hope it’s not a larger rod for him to take. 

He pants hard and fast through gritted teeth, hissing and twitching at the feeling of the coldness of the metal. He squeezes his eyes back shut, not wanting to give away even more of his state of melt-down.

With feet twitching in want of pulling his legs upwards, he tries nudging at Karkat, somehow knock him off a little, maybe rub against his nook and get him too excited to keep this... What even  _ is  _ this- going. Very carefully, he starts grinding the thigh between Karkat’s legs, biting his lower lip in concentration.

And then,  _ pain.  _ He gasps in through his mouth, a sharp, aborted  _ ‘ah’ _ scratching his throat, and this time he  _ has _ to move his hips, jutting his lower back up from the mattress in vain to get the clamp off; he realizes quickly what Karkat’s done. When he’s flopped down again, he gurgles out another growl, knees trying to pull together uselessly. 

FUCK, but it hurts- it’s more painful that his nipples, maybe because he’s never even  _ wanted  _ to try this on his own. It’s — he wants to think it doesn’t even feel good, and though that’s not what the point of this is...

It  _ does  _ feel good. The pain burns and crescendos deliciously, and Dirk’s muscles twitch and shake with it. It makes his face burn, it makes his hamstrings go so tight he can’t control the twitches they give as his body tries flinching away from something he can’t help but feel...

How the fuck  _ Karkat  _ knew he liked pain, he doesn’t know; it’s not something he throws around, maybe especially not to those he knows. Maybe Karkat just wanted him to hurt a little, some good-natured pitch right there—... But fuck.  _ Fuck, _ it’ll be obvious how much he enjoys this, how much the pain melts his thoughts to sludge, how it leaves him dumb and empty, and it feels  _ amazing.  _

With a small whimper, he shakes his head a little, blinking furiously to let the tears dry and recede before they start rolling. Fuck. He’s not going to let Karkat win, he’s NOT. 

Ten pins though..?? And his cock like this? 

He’s scared to see how his own reaction will be..

It’s funny, to watch the way that Dirk tries to retaliate. It’s easy for Karkat to dodge the thigh between his legs-- and  _ unnecessary,  _ considering the way Dirk melts immediately after. 

It’s so fuckin satisfying, watching Dirk try not to cry. He gets it now, why Dirk is so aggressive with him.

Well, Dirk isn’t so aggressive anymore.

“You’re just so sweet, aren’t you…?” he coos. He should probably kick up the dirty talk a little bit, but that’s never been his thing. He’d rather silently pull Dirk apart at the seams, leave him to his own disgusting thoughts.

He picks up another clamp, this time opting to hit Dirk _ directly  _ where it hurts. He closes the clamp on Dirk’s balls, right below the base of his cock. He sets one in the middle, then two more on each side. 

He can see the skin pull; it’s probably _ so painful.  _ But Dirk hasn’t even tried to tell him to stop… Not once. He told Karkat he hates him, plenty of times, and isn’t that just so fucking romantic? Just laying there and  _ taking it l _ ike a good little Strider, getting lost in his feelings.

Karkat strokes Dirk in earnest now, trying to force him to harden around the sound. It won’t happen, but it’s fun to try, to watch Dirk struggle. He flicks a clamp and plays with the rod, trusting it in and out, fucking into his prostate.

“Maybe you’re ready for a bigger rod…?” he asks. His voice is dreamy, dazed. He’s so in spades with Dirk, it makes his fucking heart full to watch him like this. It’s gross, honestly.

He leans over Dirk, tugging the chain between his nipples as he gets closer. He kisses Dirk slow and deep, licking into his mouth and swallowing his noises.

_ Sweet _ ?! His jaw is pried open by a moan as Karkat heedlessly strokes his cock, squeezing it around the rod and making it  _ hurt _ . He goes hard, but the strain of the sounding-rod in him jostles the hard flesh to the point of hurt where his hard-on wilts, and it's a vicious fucking cycle that is going to make Dirk cry if it goes on for too long. 

Dirk doesn't even know what Karkat's end goal  _ is _ . What is he even trying to do? He's not trying to make Dirk come, because honestly, if the rod was out there wouldn't be much to stop him from getting white all over himself. 

No, Karkat wants him to  _ suffer _ . And hearing that he's  _ sweet _ ?? It makes his cheeks burn harder. 

He feels cool against his ballsack, and he winces and gives off another hitching breath-cough, dreading and aching for the next hurt. Oh god, he's going to clamp one on his balls, he's going to- 

_ "AHh-!" _ his voice rips out in an honest to god yell, cracking in the middle. And he thinks that's it, he's trying to accept the pain slamming into him, but there's  _ more _ . The intensity of the pain keeps on climbing, and between each gasp of breath his voice moans out uninhibited - he  _ needs _ to vocalise this pain, or he is going to  _ burst _ . 

"Aahh fuck- ah-" he turns his head to the side, trying to hide his face from Karkat as tears finally roll; he's not  _ sure _ if it's purely automatic tears or if it's him in overload, but shame settles in him all the same; big boys  _ don't cry _ . Strider rule number fucking one, and he's breaking it for  _ Karkat _ . 

"Aaah I- fuck, no,  _ Hnngh _ !!!" He keeps forgetting all the places Karkat is claiming him, but then he tugs at the chain that's now warm from Dirk's body-heat, and Dirk  _ mewls _ , his breath hitching in shakily. "Noo-oh, shit, this is-- fuck, it's  _ too much _ , you fucking clepto-bitch--"

His upper body is trembling with the strain of the white-hot pain seizing his balls, travelling up, making his stomach clench, making the muscles in his lower  _ back _ clench, swirling with the pain from his nipples. 

Dirk is sure that like this, he wouldn't be able to push Karkat away, bindings or not. 

With all the pain, he almost can't distinguish it from the pleasure of the rod fucking into him; he knows how it feels, for the now hot metal to thrust against his prostate from  _ inside _ . But not knowing when it does, not having any control of it when he knows how careful he has to be; it's torture. The pleasure is as white-hot as the pain he's experiencing, and when he tries to distinguish it for his own sanity, he finds that he  _ can't.  _

He's about to curse Karkat out more, almost delirious, but then there's a hot, swirling tongue in his mouth, yet another thing that Karkat is claiming, and he mewls louder, his mouth opening even wider for the troll as he tugs the chain again. 

It's not about how slutty he sounds, Dirk reasons wildly as he desperately pants whimpery moans into Karakt's mouth, almost happy that he can use Karkat's lips on his to muffle them. It's about  _ not begging _ . It might have  _ started out _ as trying to not seem affected but at least he's not begging. 

At least there's that.

Karkat hums pleasantly into the kiss. He cedes to the  _ ‘no...’ _ Maybe it’s not technically a safe word or anything, but they don’t even  _ have _ a safe word. And if Dirk thinks he can’t take a bigger rod… well, who is Karkat to argue? He’s got plenty of other ammunition to use.

He shushes Dirk quietly, letting his voice sooth over Dirk’s tears. He brings the hand from the chain up to thumb the wet away from Dirk’s cheeks. “You’re so pretty, Dirk… Crying for me. Vulnerable for me. Taking everything I give you… You’re just so soft…”

He kisses Dirk again, stroking his wet cheeks as he does. Part of him didn’t actually expect Dirk to cry over this, and it just… makes Karkat feel  _ some type of fucking way.  _ Like he’d do anything for Dirk. Like he’d happily spend the rest of his life making Dirk cry.

Okay, not the time for that. Damn, pull it together, Karkat.

He finally sits up again, focusing his attention again on the clamps clinging to Dirk’s balls. He touches one with a finger, rocking it back and forth once, twice, and then  _ snatching it away.  _ He doesn’t pull, careful not to rip skin, but it’s gone just as quickly, and then he’s soothing the pad of a thumb over the abused pucker of skin.

He does this two more times, leaving one on each side and one still attached to Dirk’s perineum. He massages the angry, red skin, cradling Dirk’s poor abused balls in one hand while he strokes Dirk’s cock with the other.

“I wonder how much more of this you can take, before you’re begging me to cum…” he says. He toys with the rod, still stuffed inside Dirk’s dick, and hums as if he’s deep in thought. “I didn’t think you’d last this long, to be honest. Another round with the clamps? I didn’t use them all the first time…”

Idly, he runs his claws along the skin of Dirk’s thighs. He doesn’t press down, it’s not even enough to make the skin red, but he knows the threat alone will be enough to threaten Dirk. He scrapes along the insides of his thighs, until he’s high enough to knock against the middle clamp again.

“What will it be, Dirk?” he asks. “Do you want me to let you cum? Have you had enough?”

Well, the tears definitely aren't because of the pain from the clamps anymore. 

It's utterly humiliating, being stuck like this, pain mixing into pleasure until he can't tell them apart, and on top of that, Karkat is  _ humiliating him _ . He's not pretty, he's not - he's not  _ taking _ it, he's trying not to, he's- 

Dirk gives off a sob, a proper one this time, hating himself for nuzzling into Karkat's hand for comfort. 

When Karkat moves away, he tries following Karkat's hand until he flops back onto the bed, bereft. "Fuck-...  _ fuck _ ..." He sniffs, hard enough for it to not be cute. 

Damnit-  _ damnit _ , he wasn't supposed to go soft, he's still angry, he hasn't  _ lost yet _ , he can win this, he  _ can _ . 

He's about to ask what he's doing, dizzy with the stimulation forced upon him, a twinge from his balls travelling up his abdomen, but then there's relief, followed by scorching heat and pain-pleasure that makes him try to curl up, try to writhe. 

And then it doubles, and Karkat is  _ rubbing against it _ , playing him like a fucking instrument; an instrument he's proficient in, at that.

Dirk is having trouble making sense of himself. For one, Karkat talking about coming makes him aware of his dick again, which is making his groin and inner thighs ache like a rubbed raw nerve. How he forgot he wanted to come is beyond him, because the need to is suddenly overwhelming. 

Visibly reeling, Dirk tries to catch his breath, locking gazes with Karkat, eyes large and pleading, wet with shed and unshed tears. 

He opens his mouth, gaping a little like a goldfish, lube pushing out around the rod lodged inside him. 

Dirk clacks his jaw shut, brows still scrunching up pleadingly. He's  _ shaking _ . "I... haa-..." He closes his eyes, visibly trying to sow together his frying mind, trying to gain control over twitchy muscles. 

"Y'think clothing pins're gonna cut it? -- haah-" the claws set to his skin makes his blood go cold for a second, and he swallows, choking on a whine as a clamp is jostled. " _ UHhnn _ ..." that's not what he wanted to say. He tries again, "unbelievable. Fu- hucking  _ weak _ , dude-..." His mouth gapes open, and he tries grinding  _ into _ Karkat's hand, the hurt of it making his vision blacken and sparkle beautifully. His breath still hitches in a soft sob, a couple of tears spilling over his cheeks. 

He wants to come  _ so bad _ . He's not sure why he's doing this to himself.

Karkat  _ knows  _ that Dirk is just being difficult. He knows that Dirk isn’t the kind of man to admit defeat easily. He’s gotta say, though, he’s a little disappointed. He thought he’d _ gotten  _ Dirk there, for a moment.

Maybe he hasn’t pushed hard enough yet.

Maybe Dirk doesn’t  _ need him badly enough  _ yet.

Karkat doesn’t say anything. No teasing. No praises. He simply comes to terms with the fact that he apparently needs to try harder, and redoubles his efforts. He pulls the rest of the clamps away from Dirk’s balls and resets to start over.

He gives Dirk a short break, watching the pinched skin start to smooth itself out. He doesn’t let it relax all the way, though, before he’s setting clamps into it again. One by one, he gets all ten of them attached to Dirk’s balls, and then he’s stroking Dirk’s cock again.

Maybe he _ should _ get the bigger rod. Dirk did say no at first, but then he  _ challenged _ Karkat, and really, what is he supposed to do? Back down? Fuck that.

He struggles with whether or not he should do it, but in the meantime, he’s been  _ too far away  _ from Dirk this whole time. He’s been using his hands too much, keeping his distance. Maybe a little TLC is what Dirk need to finally break down. He hates it enough when Karkat is just _ nice _ to him, maybe he needs to be  _ nicer. _

He sets himself off to the side, so he can bend over Dirk without crushing into the sounding rod. The last thing he needs is a slip up like that sending them to the emergency room, no. But from here, he can easily bend into Dirk’s neck and chest.

He kisses along Dirk’s throat, down his collar bones, down to where the clamp is still sat so nicely around his nipple. He runs his tongue over it, tasting flesh and metal. He tugs at the chain again, kissing taught skin. The niceties run out quickly, and he’s left with the urge to just… to  _ bite _ Dirk. After all this playing around, and the games, and the toys… there’s something about using his teeth, that’s just… so good.

So natural.

He moves back up to Dirk’s throat and noses along the column of it. He whispers sweet nothings as he nuzzles Dirk, his free hand soothing down Dirk’s side. “Come on, baby, just tell me what you want… You can have it… You’ve been so good for me… Don’t start fighting me now… Just tell me what you need, it’s okay…”

And then, slowly, the tips of his teeth press into Dirk’s shoulder… and then all at once, he bites down.

If this is a test, it is one of the most cruelest ones Dirk has been part of. And he's been a part of his fair share of cruel tests.

He's besides himself with the pain and pleasure of Karkat meticulously placing the clamps back on him, all ten that he has in his collection. 

Dirk's breath is coming out in more and more audible gasping pants, an almost anxious sound escaping from him- there's so much feeling. He can't  _ think _ . The tension in his chest and dick and and jaw and  _ everything _ makes him afraid, so deadly afraid, and he doesn't really understand it--

Suddenly, everything is very, very simple. 

He needs to come.

A croaky little mewl slips out of him, and he tries to make eye-contact with Karkat, not quite able to vocalize the all-consuming need his body is screaming at him- it feels like his nerves can't decide if what he feels is pain or pleasure, switching between them like he's in a fever, suddenly hot, suddenly cold. 

Then, Karkat is over him, and he can't really make eye-contact. Fire follows Karkat's lips, tingles following his tongue. 

At first Dirk literally can't hear the sweet-talk, out of his mind with sensation. But Karkat's words, hotly whispered into his ear when he's already ready to beg, sinks into his mind, taking root there. Relief takes hold in him, heady- he just needs to tell Karkat, he needs to tell him right away- 

Then, delicious pain,  _ pain _ that was tingles before, and the hot jolt brings him back from the crystal clear cloud he was on, and he heaves for breath as he returns,

"--C-come-" the word is hard to force out of his fucked out brain; his tone is breathy, almost dreamy. "Need to come- Karkat, need to come-" His arms tries to wrap around Karkat, but he can't move them. He tries wrapping his legs around Karkat, but he can't move them. 

He shivers.

“Aww…” Karkat kisses along Dirk’s neck again, because it’s just  _ so sweet.  _ So cute, that Dirk is trying so hard, and he can barely talk.

With one hand, he starts to idkly work at the clamps on Dirk’s balls, loosening one at a time and letting them fall to the bed. He only makes it up to two clamps down, before he’s whispering in Dirk’s ear again. “Are you going to ask me please? If you want to cum, Dirk, sweetheart, you have to say it nicely.”

He works another two of the clamps off, bites lightly at Dirk’s neck. He’s ready to let Dirk go now, but only after he gets _ at least  _ one please out of him. It’s only fair, right? After the way Dirk has made Karkat beg for less, the least Dirk can do is say please.

Because Karkat worked  _ so hard f _ or this. He did hours of research, guessed a lot, and did everything he could to make this as good-- as  _ terrible  _ as possible for Dirk.

“Come on, you can do it…” he coos again. From this close to Dirk, he’s dangerously close to starting to purr. He’s been able to keep his own arousal in check for most of this, but he just  _ loves _ being close to Dirk, loves laying over him and breathing him in. He smells like arousal and fear and sweat and it’s just such a sweet mixture. It’s perfect.

"Aaahh--....  _ aaah _ ...- ..." Dirk sighs out aching moans as Karkat loosens the clamps, trying to snuggle up to Karkat despite his captivity. 

Oh, he has to ask, that's right. That's not so hard, he just has to gather the breath first. He nods a little, mouth open to take in gasping breaths, hands again trying to find Karkat and failing; he whines, cocking his head to the side and giving Karkat more room to nibble. 

"Need to come-- please-..." Easy. He can do it again if Karkat needs to. "Please, Karkat- want to come-..." his body, especially dick, twitches at the reminder, his voice perfectly pleading. He's being good. 

He needs to come so bad. 

"Karkat-..." He mewls it pleadingly, more tears rolling, now beginning to slowly feel at distress. It's  _ so much _ . He loves it, but he can't deal with it for much longer, all these different sensations here to wreck him utterly.

Karkat takes mercy. He shushes and kisses Dirk, tells him how good he is, how well he’s doing. How perfect and pretty he is. How sweet his tears are. It’s the perfect end to this little game, and Dirk reaching orgasm only comes as an afterthought.

He plucks the rest of the clamps from Dirk’s body, letting them all lie forgotten on the blanket. He leaves the ones at his nipples, though, because it just… feels right. He wants to tug on them as he finally lets Dirk peak.

He sits up and thrusts the rod into Dirk a few more times. He wants to pull those last few tears from Dirk, those last begging words.  _ God, _ it feels good to listen to Dirk beg for him. It’s so deeply satisfying, he just wants to  _ hold _ Dirk and never let go.

So without further ado, he slips the rod out of Dirk’s cock and lies it down. He wraps his hand around Dirk and strokes him-- he’s not actually sure if Dirk will need the help finishing or not, so he just does it. He tugs at the chain at the same time, watching with baited breath until Dirk finally lets go.

“You’re so good, Dirk, so fucking good,” he keeps saying. He needs Dirk to  _ know _ how much he appreciates him. “So sweet. So beautiful. So good, baby, that’s it. It’s okay, you’re okay.” It’s everything Karkat wants to hear, when he’s the one falling apart at the seams, so he can only hope that it’s what Dirk needs, too.

When he leans down to kiss Dirk again, he pulls the last two clamps away from his nipples as well. Finally, Dirk’s body is free from obstruction. Nothing left to hurt him, nothing left inside him. Karkat scrambles to let Dirk out of the restraints as well, needing for his  _ own  _ sanity, for Dirk to touch him. For Dirk to let him know he’s still okay.

“Are you alright?” he asks, with one hand stroking Dirk’s cheek. “You did so well, I’m so proud of you. Let me have you...” He wraps his arms around Dirk’s weak body and holds him close, pressing his lips into his skin.

"Please- please, let me come, please-" Once Dirk has started, it's hard to stop- he's feeling  _ so good, _ the intensity just seeming to build, and there's nothing he can  _ do.  _ He's so close to the edge but he can't seem to-... He can't- 

Dirk sobs again, gasping when he feels Karkat fuck into him again, and  _ again. _ He whimpers and pleads faster, "Karkatwannacomepleasewannacomewanna-" A loud moan is pulled out of him at the same time as the rod is pulled out, and a mix of lube and white dribbles heavily over Karkat's hand, his orgasm gripping him and  _ squeezing  _ him even though he's not properly hard, and he feels like he's going to  _ die.  _

"Fu- _ huck- _ fuck-" he moans brokenly, tears flowing freely. Karkat's hand squeezes out his come and it burns a little, but he only feels pleasure from it, it  _ keeps on going. _ "UHhhn- _ NNNH!!!" _ Dirk  _ writhes  _ as the clamps on his nipples are tugged off him, not trying to get away or fight, filled with energy that he can't seem to shake off. 

He doesn't realize at first that the cuffs are off, but when he does his hands are immediately grabbing onto Karkat, hiding his hot face in the crook of Karkat's neck, sobbing out another moan, hands clutching and pulling at his sweater to get him closer,  _ closer, _ arms weak enough that he can't seem to move Karkat at all. 

" _ Nnnnhhh _ fuck, uhhn!!" He's overheating, at least it feels like it; his lower back is slick with sweat, and he's- is he drooling? Crying? His face is so farm it feels like it's going to burst. His  _ cock  _ feels warm, he's drowning. His hips buck into Karkat's hand and he whimpers, murmuring into Karkat's neck "Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch, Karkat 'stoomuchmmh-" 

Arms wrap around the troll weakly, Karkat acting like an anchor. 

And then he's back, suddenly able to breathe  _ properly, _ and he sobs weakly, a hand smoothing over Karkat's back as if _ he's _ the one needing comfort. 

He's never felt so fucked out in his  _ life,  _ sweaty and lightheaded and weak, and it's  _ scary. _

“Shhh, you’re okay, you did so good, Dirk…” Karkat praises. He pets a hand through Dirk’s sweaty hair and lets him cling to him, keeping an arm around Dirk’s body.

A low purr starts up in his chest. It’s partially a noise of comfort, meant to calm Dirk’s nerves and be soothing. And it’s partially… just because Karkat feels good.

He feels good, knowing that he was good for Dirk, that he did  _ this _ for Dirk. Maybe it started out as a sort of revenge for him to get back at Dirk, but it turned into something more. He still wanted to  _ wreck _ Dirk, which he very much achieved, but it was… less malicious. So much more pitch.

God, he’s really in over his head... For a guy who he’s still not positive understands what pitch means. So stupid.

In any case, he’s purring and holding and petting Dirk, and in general being very comforting. He’s enjoying it more than he will ever admit, how much Dirk needs him right now. He’d do anything Dirk asked him at this very moment.

“What do you need, Dirk?” he asks, voice quiet and slightly garbled by the rumbling his purr. “Do you need water? A blanket? Want to take a bath?” He kisses the side of Dirk’s very warm face.

At first, Dirk only gives off a shuddery moan, sniffling a little and trying to snuggle up to Karkat even more, completely hooked on the soft reassurances and praises. It calms him; he did good, he's okay. Nothing is wrong, everything is right. 

He's still shaking. It's insane, really, how much his body has been strained despite him not  _ doing anything.  _ He was just laying there, just being... Used isn't even the word for it, because Karkat surely didn't get anything out of it...? 

Karkat's purr vibrates into him like a very, very gentle massage. As Dirk's body slowly but surely starts calming down, he manages to wrap his arms a little more firmly around the troll, taking a deeper breath in, sighing it out a little less shakily. 

He moves his head just enough that he can kiss at Karkat's neck, still stuck in that wonderful place of quiet, of no thoughts and just feeling, and now it's just  _ good.  _ His body aches, but it aches in a comforting way, in a way that says that he was at least a  _ little _ busy suffering. Suffering so good. 

With zero caution but plenty gentleness, he slides a hand down to feel between Karkat's legs; he didn't get to come... Feels so good to come, and Karkat made him feel  _ so good...  _

"Need.... mm..." He continues his kitten-licks on Karkat's neck, eyes almost shut. "Need to make..." A sigh. Talking is hard. "Wanna suck your bulge..." 

It would feel  _ so good.  _ For him. Like a heavy kiss, warm and wet and  _ Karkat,  _ and he  _ wants _ it. Wants Karkat to know how much he wants it. 

"Please...?" He  _ has  _ to say yes if he says please.

“Suck my--?” Karkat makes a face, because it throws him off. He’s glad Dirk can’t see it (Dirk probably can’t see much of anything in this state) because he would hate for Dirk to think he was disappointed.

He’s not disappointed, he actually would love for Dirk to put that mouth to work, but… “Don’t you want to just… relax?” he asks. “You don’t need to worry about me right now.”

Dirk can barely get the words out, for Christ’s sake. What else does he think he's going to do with his mouth if he can’t  _ talk? _

Even so, he doesn’t try to stop Dirk from touching him. Dirk  _ always _ wants to eat him out, so should this really come as a shock?

There’s something different about it this time, though. Usually… Dirk is more condescending about it. Tries to make it sound like Karkat is the one who can’t live without it, and Dirk is just soooo generous. But right now, there’s not a single trace of that in Dirk’s body language. Dirk is the one that’s desperate.

Desperate to please Karkat. He  _ even asked please,  _ like good boys do. How is Karkat supposed to say no?

But okay, how is this supposed to work? Dirk doesn’t seem to have the strength to sit up on his own, much less hold himself up over Karkat. And any other time, Karkat would be  _ happy  _ to sit on Dirk’s face until he suffocated, but… right now, he might actually suffocate.

With a sigh, he starts to sit up. If Dirk wants it so bad,  _ he  _ can figure out the logistics. He’s careful not to let Dirk go while he sits himself up against the headboard, he doesn’t want to make Dirk think he’s trying to leave. When he’s up, he looks down at his  _ very thoroughly  _ destroyed kismesis, and his heart flutters all over again. He did that, didn’t he?

He bends down and kisses Dirk’s forehead again and cards his fingers through his hair.

“You can have anything you want, baby, go for it.”

"Mmm..." Dirk lets out a happy little sound that's probably supposed to be a purr, letting Karkat sit up while his slides down Karkat's chest, in the end wrapping his arms around Karkat's waist. He rests his cheek tiredly on top of Karkat's thigh, encouraging Karkat to spread his legs so he can lie between them. 

"...Mm." Wow, brain, please work? That doesn't look or feel very comfortable to him. "Pillows here." He pats Karkat's lower back, hoping he'll get it. He's too drunk on his afterglow to look around for pillows to stuff under Karkat. 

Hands slide under Karkat's sweater, simply feeling at the warm smooth skin there, lifting the sweater up enough for him to lay down kisses. While he nibbles on the skin, it's still not any sort of aggressive, simply like he wants to test the bounciness of it. 

Once he's managed to get Karkat in a good position, reclined with Dirk between his legs, Dirk's head resting in the crook between his thigh and hip, he starts fumbling with Karkat's pants, slipping a hand into them and rubbing, hoping Karkat is out and ready to greet.

With a great oof, he rolls his head up so it's in front of Karkat's crotch, and he starts kitten-licking at the skin right above his waistband; usually he'd look up to Karkat challengingly, maybe snark at him, make him feel boiling hot with anger and arousal, but... This is. Different. For him anyway.

Without really looking up at him, he starts pulling down Karkat's pants enough for him to start licking lower, eyes closing, letting his mouth and tongue lead the way. Warm skin leads him downwards where he needs to be, and then there's something slicking against his chin, like a hot, very long tongue. 

Warmth starts on his face, even though he's not really feeling aroused. He opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out to meet Karkat's bulge, frenching it and inviting it into his mouth. No desperation, no harsh sucking or nipping or slurping, just simple, wet  _ kissing,  _ an easy moan a little garbled as Karkat's bulge automatically starts twisting and turning. 

It satisfies Dirk immensely. If you'd asked him why, he wouldn't be able to answer. Sucking Karkat's bulge simply... Is the best. Doing it feels great, it makes Karkat feel great, he gets a nice-boyfriend-point-... 

Slowly, he lets his head rest against Karkat's lower abdomen, letting Karkat's bulge do most of the work, enjoying the dance they're doing in his mouth. He has the wit to close off his throat so it won't try to fuck down into it too hard. He gets lost in it, trying to understand the patterns, and warm slick he swallows down. 

Almost absently, he also starts rubbing a thumb along Karkat's slit, not giving it too much attention but knowing it'll feel good.

It’s… it’s so cute, the way Dirk tries so hard, when he can barely keep his eyes open. It’s nothing that’s going to blow Karkat’s mind, it’s soft and lazy and just… good in it’s own way. Pleasant, gentle.

_ Nothing _ like how Dirk usually is. It kind of reminds him of Dave, all eager and honest. Maybe there’s more of that in Dirk than he likes to let on.

Maybe Karkat should fuck him senseless more often. Dirk apparently doesn’t have the brainpower to be such an asshole after being… what was that, dominated? Weird. Karkat’s not really that person, but it was  _ fun. _ It was so much fun, and now he gets  _ this. _ Dirk being all sloppy and pliant and, dare he say,  _ adorable. _

He pets a gentle hand through Dirk’s hair, a quiet purr still vibrating through his body. He watches Dirk with half-lidded, smitten eyes. There’s nothing he would love more right now than to just fall asleep with Dirk.

Maybe after cumming, though, because actually, this is really nice.

“You’re so good,” he tells Dirk, brushing damn hairs away from Dirk’s face. His bulge curls and licks back at Dirk, just as languid and easy as Dirk. It falls into step with Dirk’s pace, doing the sweetest dance with him.

He rocks his hips down when Dirk’s thumb brushes over his nook, just to let Dirk know he’s doing a good job. A little chirp escapes him, followed by several more. Vaguely, he wonders if he should stop Dirk before he finishes. Go finish himself off in the bathroom so he won’t make a mess. He  _ really _ does want to sleep with Dirk, just lay here and cuddle with him and kiss him and… he can’t do that if he soaks through all the blankets.

He has a feeling Dirk wouldn’t let him get up, though. Damn… And it’s not like he doesn’t  _ want _ to let Dirk finish him off, but…

Maybe if he’s lucky, Dirk will wear himself out before it’s even an issue. He looks like he’s about to pass out at any second.

"Hmmhh..." Dirk only sighs in pleasure as Karkat plays with his hair, a hand smoothing lazily over Karkat's side and grub-scars, stopping up from time to time to focus on the bulge tongue-flirting with him, unable to properly concentrate on more than one task at the time. 

At Karkat's little chirps, he seems perk up briefly, moaning back and rubbing a little faster against Karkat's nook before seeming to lose focus again, distracted by Karkat's bulge writhing further into his mouth. 

As Karkat was hoping, or maybe feared, his eyes open and droop closed every few moments, drool spilling heavily to the sheets as he forgets to swallow. Sleepy and sloppy like this, he looks debauched to the seven heavens, eyes rolling up with every sleepy blink. 

Seeming to realize that he's falling asleep, but not wanting to stop, Dirk opens his mouth a little more, sinking his mouth down to the base of Karkat's bulge, suckling at the tentacle in his mouth in slow pumps, like sucking on a pacifier. 

He starts breathing through his nose, deeply, most definitely close to sleep. 

It feels comfortable. Dirk is allowed this comfortable respite, Karkat said so. He lets out a little comfort-sound, resting the top of his head against Karkat's thigh, his tongue hanging out a little to prevent himself from biting.

Dirk is quickly losing control of himself, and Karkat can only sigh fondly as he watches. Maybe it shouldn’t be cute, watching Dirk drool all over himself and struggle to keep up with the lazy flicks of Karkat’s bulge, but it’s… endearing. For some reason.

Maybe it’s just the leftover feelings rush from taking Dirk apart so intimately. He saw parts of Dirk just now that he never thought he would ever get to see.

Thankfully (he guesses…) it isn’t long before Dirk is so incoherent that he isn’t even slightly paying attention anymore. His head lies sleepily against Karkat’s thigh, his eyes closed, his mouth no longer working to move with things. So gently, Karkat lifts Dirk’s body off of his own and starts to climb out of bed.

He’s not strong enough to carry Dirk all the way to the bathroom by himself, so he double and triple checks that Dirk definitely won’t be waking up, before pressing a kiss to his head and leaving the room. He’ll just clean himself up real quick, grab a wash rag, come back and clean Dirk up, and then curl up under the blankets with him. Perfect plan.

Thankfully (again) Dave is nowhere to be found when Karkat exits Dirk’s room.

Moving is hard, considering how worked up he’s gotten. His bulge just  _ won’t _ calm down, and maybe cleaning himself up isn’t going to be as quick as he thought. Maybe a quick orgasm wouldn’t kill him.

Like an teenager who can’t control his fucking self, he steps into the shower and and immediately tangles his finger with his bulge. He sucks in a breath, picking up right where Dirk’s mouth had left him off.

He was close already, in bed, and it’s not going to take him long to finish. He thinks about how Dirk yelled and cussed at him, told him  _ he hates him  _ so honestly. He thinks about how Dirk cracked and broke down, until he was nothing but a puddle on the mattress. How he whined and moaned for Karkat. How he eventually broke down to begging and crying, and clinging to Karkat,  _ needing him… _

And now Dirk immediately tried to return the favor. Despite his own exhaustion, trying as hard as he could to make sure Karkat fet good too… Maybe there _ is _ a heart behind those cold, bastard eyes of his.

Karkat’s breath hitches as his bulge squeezes tighter around his wrist. Fingers dip down until they’re pushing into his nook, and he’s cumming not long after that. Wet, red material spills all inside the shower, and he’s so fucking grateful that he didn’t do this in the bed.

The cleanup is  _ so easy,  _ just simply washing it down the drain. He strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs the rag he meant for Dirk before heading back to the room.

Dirk is conked the fuck out still, and Karkat is grateful that he didn’t come back to a sobbing mess. Even if said sobbing mess was hot as fuck a little bit ago. Not quite as cute when it’s tears of abandonment.

He sighs and crawls back onto the bed. He wipes the drying cum off of Dirk’s body, wipes some of the sheen of sweat away. He wipes Dirk’s face, but he has to stop when he’s struck by… how stupidly handsome Dirk’s face is, when he’s not making some shitty face trying to look cool. He palms Dirk’s cheek and runs a thumb over his cheekbone, just… looking at him for a while. Maybe more than a while. Maybe it’s a good thing Dirk has no idea what he’s doing, or he would never let Karkat live it down.

He doesn’t bother getting up to throw the rag in the hamper. He just drops it off the side of the bed and pulls Dirk under the blankets with him. He wraps his arms snug around Dirk, and he doesn’t realize how tired he is until he closes his eyes. Damn, maybe that took a lot out of him, too.

Dirk is absolutely dead to the world, and he doesn't even  _ twitch _ when Karkat leaves to relieve himself. 

When Karkat comes back, he's hardly moved, besides maybe snuggling up in the warm spot Karkat left after him. His eyelids slit open only briefly when Karkat starts washing him, but they slip shut again with another small comfy-sounding 'nnh', and Karkat is left to moon over Dirk's visage as he pleases. 

Automatically, Dirk's arms wrap themselves around Karkat, his body greedy for comfort and warmth even when he's half-way into REM. He woke up briefly when Karkat pulled him towards himself, but he just  _ can't _ be bothered to make any kind of fuss or even wake up enough to acknowledge the situation any. 

It's warm. Comfy. Arms around him. He might even give whatever part his lips are closest to a tiny little smooch, and then he's off to dream-land again, lax in Karkat's arms in a way he hasn't been... Well. Ever, probably. 

It's the best sleep he's had in years.


	7. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, things get a little too hot.
> 
> CW: mutually dubious consent.

As Karkat slowly wakes up, he’s vaguely aware of several things being different. The arms that are holding him are bigger than they usually are. The bed is a different kind of warm. It smells like--

Like Dirk. He’s in Dirk’s bed, not Dave’s. Shit, he hopes Dave won’t be mad at him for not coming to bed last night. He’s kind of got a good excuse, though…

Dirk needed him. There was no way he was going to leave, after everything that happened. Even if Dirk will deny all of it later, probably even as soon as he wakes up. He should take advantage of this while he can, being this close and intimate with Dirk. It’s not something Dirk usually likes to do.

And yeah, okay, maybe Karkat could have sent Dave a text. Sue him for being distracted.

He hasn’t moved yet, or even opened his eyes. He’s tucked up into Dirk’s chest, somehow having switched positions somewhere along the line. Even asleep, even after being so thoroughly dominated, Dirk can’t let Karkat be on top. Typical, needing to be the big spoon at any given time.

Whatever. Karkat doesn’t care either way. A cuddle is a cuddle, and he’ll let Dirk take the lead if that’s what he wants. He’d put up more of a fight about it, though, if he weren’t sure that Dirk was still asleep. Just because he  _ will  _ let Dirk have whatever he wants, doesn't mean he will make it  _ easy. _

He gives off a quiet sigh and nuzzles his forehead further into Dirk’s chest. His hands are warm, where they’re pressed up in between both their bodies. It’s nice. He wants it to last a little bit longer. Before Dirk’s awful mouth can ruin it.

Dirk has slept like the dead. It's not something he usually does, pretty much  _ ever _ , unless he is out stone cold from exhaustion after a work-marathon, or a project-marathon. 

Which is why he startles awake with a sharp breath through his nose, sitting up a couple inches on pure reflex, tired eyes scanning- oh. Karkat. 

Man. Yesterday was fucking  _ crazy _ . What the fuck even  _ was _ that... 

He remembers... Well, he remembers everything, it's not like he was drunk off his ass or anything, but... Still, some of the moments remain a little murky, and towards the end there he-... 

Holy shit. Nah, that shit never happened. 

He tries to convince himself of that, but no, there it is; he went the full bottom. For those short moments towards the end he-... Ugh, fuck that was beyond hot. He fell asleep with Karkat's bulge in his mouth, holy shit. He wonders if Karkat came, if he had to hurry to the bathroom or if he... 

Hmm. He studies Karkat's face, how his own arms are wrapped comfortably around him. Heh. He looks pretty fucking adorable snuggled up to him like this. Where's his dom ass now, huh. Pssh. He just managed to hit a couple buttons he probably wasn't even aware of existed. At the time it seemed like he knew... everything. But hindsight is 20/20. 

Slowly, gently enough that he won't wake the beast, he strokes a hand over Karkat's back, feeling at the warm, grey skin. Damn, he has nice skin. He wants to kiss and bite at it equally, get some revenge for the way his own body is fucking  _ aching _ . Like, man. Karkat got him good. 

He's pretty sure he can't piss for a while. His hands and ankles are fine, but there's still marks from how hard he was tugging. And not to mention his  _ balls _ . Jesus fuck, Karkat was fucking brutal!

And here he lies, face all lax and sweet and unassuming and  _ in his arms _ , like he's done nothing wrong.

It's.

Fuck. He settles back into the position he woke in, nuzzling the thick hair on Karkat's scalp, taking a careful breath in. Hugs him a little tighter, wraps himself around Karkat more than he's pulling Karkat into himself. He's so warm, like his special little heater. He wants those hot hands sliding over him, that hot mouth on his neck, against that bite he can  _ feel _ throbbing in time with his pulse. 

But for now, he just wants to  _ cuddle _ . He can allow himself that for as long as Karkat's asleep, the bastard.

When Dirk moves, Karkat goes completely still. Not that he wasn’t still before, just… He lies there like he’s asleep, waiting for Dirk to say something. Waiting to get woken up, or for some crude remark to be the first thing he hears, or for  _ Dirk  _ to just get up and go.

The last thing he expects is for Dirk to lay back down and hug him tighter.

He’s even more grateful for their position now than he was before, because he can easily hide the way he smiles when Dirk is too busy nuzzling into his hair.

_ Nuzzling into his hair?  _ Who the fuck does Dirk think he is? Did he really fuck the man  _ that  _ senseless? He still doesn’t have his mind right?

Karkat  _ revels  _ in the gentle touches. The way he can hear Dirk breathing above him. The strong, warm arms wrapped around him so snugly. He’s never going to let Dirk live this down. Dirk _ has  _ a heart and he  _ has  _ needs. He still needs Karkat, and that makes him feel… good.

So good.

Maybe he’ll enjoy it for a little while before he decides to burst Dirk’s bubble.

He makes a sleepy little chirp, in response to Dirk snuggling into him. Definitely something he can play off as still being asleep. He presses his nose into Dirk’s sternum, taking the moment to get another little breath in. He can smell his own scent all over Dirk, and it stirs something in him that he doesn’t have a name for. Like Dirk is really  _ his. _

He melts into it, and for a moment, he wishes they could have this all the time. That thought is quickly washed away, though, because if they were like this all the time, it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be nearly as black. He would miss the banter and the little fights and the aggressive, biting kisses. He would miss tearing into Dirk with his nails and messing up his stupid hair. This is nice, but it’s not  _ that. _

Soft is what he has Dave for. Soft with Dirk is only the calm before the storm.

Dirk freezes when he hears the little chirp, afraid that Karkat is going to wake up. 

Well. He could just pretend he's asleep, and it'll be no problem right...? Yeah. Being the first one awake definitely has its perks, this being one of them. There's a certain freedom about it, being able to hug and stroke and sigh happily into Karkat's hair when they both settle down again. 

Very gently, he manages to tangle their legs together, and he's a little proud of himself for doing it so smoothly without Karkat waking up. The heat between them grows, and Dirk makes a happy little sound in the back of his throat. A hand smooths up from Karkat's back and up to the back of his neck, playing the the hairs at his hairline there, mapping Karkat out in a way that he probably wouldn't be allowed to normally. 

His lips forage through hair to get to Karkat's horn, and then he manages to find a horn-bed. He always wondered how the skin there was. He gives very soft, very light kisses to the skin there, curious but very aware that Karkat could wake any minute, so he needs to be careful about it. 

Wow. If Karkat could just be this pliant and soft all the time, he wouldn't be so fucking insufferable. He might not have even have minded his body being as sore as it currently is. 

Happy to continue to exploring Karkat until he gives a sign of waking up, he keeps up the gentle touches, so soft they make goosebumps appear on Karkat's back.

Karkat’s face heats as Dirk continues to touch him. It was one thing last night, when Dirk was too fuckdrunk to be coherent… It was sweet and endearing and just so cute. Is it still those things now? Now that Dirk is awake and in control of his own actions? Is this…  _ allowed? _

He lets himself react to the touches. It would be weird if he didn’t, right? Even if he’s supposed to be asleep? He nods his head into the kisses at his horn, arches ever so slightly into the hands on his skin. Even if the gentleness is confusing, it still feels  _ good. _

It’s making Karkat warm and it’s kicking up some of the leftover arousal from the night before. He thinks about how badly Dirk wanted to put his mouth on him, how he  _ literally  _ fell asleep with Karkat’s bulge in his mouth. Does he still want that now? Would he pick back up where he left off, and finish Karkat off properly?

Not that the orgasm he gave himself in the bathroom was bad, it just… would have been so much better if Dirk did it. It still  _ could be  _ so much better if Dirk does it now.

He’s about to cave, to turn up and start kissing at Dirk’s neck, but then the knob on the door clicks as it’s turned open.

And then the  _ door is open _ and Dave is standing there with a glass of orange juice in his hand.

Karkat sucks in a breath as Dave’s voice permeates the room. “Are you two ever going to get up? I made-- oh my  _ god,  _ Dirk, what the fuck are you doing?”

Karkat can hear the emotional journey Dave takes, without even looking up. From bored and slightly annoyed, to shocked, to  _ humored.  _ Ah shit, Dave thinks it’s  _ funny. _

Well, maybe it is funny. Maybe Karkat can jump ahead of the game and act like he wasn’t just about to give in to the soft cuddle and spoil the fuck out of Dirk. He totally wasn’t going to do that, no fucking way.

“I can’t believe this, I have to,” Dave starts, and Karkat peeks an eye open just in time to see Dave pull out his cell phone and point it at them.

_ "Dave." _ It's as much a croak as it is a hiss, and he holds Karkat closer to himself, even though it just damns him further, "You ever heard about kno-  _ put away the fucking camera, Jesus Christ!"  _

He can feel how his face is heating up, he can only  _ imagine _ what he looks like. Hair mussed up to all fuck, tear-tracks from yesterday (which hopefully Karkat had the heart to clean?), a bitemark the size of Texas...

And that's not even  _ counting  _ how he'd been cuddling Karkat like he was his new favourite cat! All soft-eyed and smiling like some smitten fucking asshole, and Dave saw it- ughh. 

He's just fucking lucky Karkat wasn't awake for it. 

Dave heeds it no mind though, and though he now looks more deer-in-headlights than fuck-soft, he can just  _ imagine  _ how red his face is, how tenderly he's still holding onto the troll. To avoid Dave having that image from several angles, Dirk moves to pull away from Karkat, but  _ holy shit he's fucking hurting _ , and he's still naked and apparently so is Karkat?!

With a loud groan he slumps, burying his now again hot face in Karkat's neck, trying to pull the blanket over both their heads. 

"Karkat, wake up, Dave is being a little  _ bitch." _ He gives Dave the side-eye like,  _ yeah you.  _ He tries untangling their legs and arms though, much less softer with Dave in the room to mock him and him now rudely awakened.

Karkat groans through the commotion, like he’s been entirely put out by it. With Dirk’s face in his neck, his arms automatically come up to wrap around him, one slipping up into his hair.

So much for Dirk eating  _ him _ for breakfast.

“Oh, me?” he asks, as innocently as possible. He hooks a leg over Dirk’s hip for good measure, no escape. “I wasn’t asleep. How could I, when you were all touching me and kissing my horns and shit. It was adorable, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” He presses a kiss to the side of Dirk’s face that he can reach. “God knows, you probably needed it, after yesterday.”

Dave lowers his phone to raise an eyebrow at them. “What happened yesterday?” he asks.

Karkat slides him a look, and Dave shuts right up. Got it, he doesn’t want to know. He goes back to snapping pictures. “Anyway, breakfast is getting cold, if you assholes ever feel like getting up.”

Karkat is too busy massaging his fingers through Dirk’s hair to look back up. The cuddling was cute before, but now it’s _ better.  _ Dirk being humiliated by it only makes Karkat want to be even sweeter.

“You hear that, babe?” he asks, all soft and cooing. “Dave made us breakfast. Can you even move? Don’t worry if you can’t get up, I’ll come back and feed you.”

“Gross,” Dave very helpfully supplies.

" _ Mm _ !!" With a croaky, strangled yelp, Dirk immediately tries to wriggle out of Karkat's suddenly firmer embrace, but the leg slung around his hip keeps him mostly in place. "You fucking--!!" His face is about to  _ melt off _ . 

He's been  _ awake _ ??? How did he  _ not _ notice! He always noticed when Dave was awake, back when they were younger-- ughh, but Karkat is a troll, so maybe it's harder to parse??!

Doesn't matter,  _ oh god _ he was awake the whole time, heard the little noises Dirk made, felt how  _ fucking soft he was being _ , and he was being  _ careful as well _ , and that must have- looked like he was - 

"You're such an  _ asshole _ !!!" Which is not something he should say about others when he's quite the asshole himself, but he growls and tries to push Karkat off anyway, fully aware of the clicking from the mobile camera. 

And, ugh, Dave is  _ seeing this _ , seeing him all weird and soft and  _ weak _ , and even though he's just about dying from mortification, he can't quite bring himself to scratch and bite. Well, mostly. He gives Karkat a warning-bite to his shoulder, but it's nothing that could even put a dent in Karkat's skin. 

He's still... He's weak. He can feel how jello his arms are when he tries pushing away, how achey he feels and how much easier it would be to just slump and let Dave have his 'cute boyfriend' picture-session. 

"I fucking  _ hate _ you, Karkat, this is  _ not cool _ ."

“Oh, you hate me?? I had noooo idea, Dirk. Way to spring a confession on me, I don’t know what to say…”

The way Dirk tries and fails to push Karkat away tells Karkat everything he needs to know about how Dirk is still feeling. Weak. Tired. Sore. Probably not up for getting out of bed any time soon. He’d probably try to stand up and his legs would give out. He wonders how many bruises Dirk has… He never actually tested how tight the clamps were on himself, and he can’t wait to see the marks he left.

But for now, Dirk is pressed too close to him for him to see. And Karkat has a confession to respond to. So he tightens the hand in Dirk’s hair just enough to tug his head back and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “I guess I could see myself hating you, too…”

Dave rolls his eyes where he’s still standing in the doorway. “I repeat: gross,” he says. He slides his phone back into his pocket and turns to leave. “Come out when you’re done, I guess. I’m not sticking around for you’re little hate tryst.”

Karkat doesn’t look up to see Dave go, but he’s aware of the fact that the door is left open. He kisses Dirk again with a quiet little hum, and thumbs across his temple. He’s half teasing and half actually concerned when he starts talking again. “You still seem pretty worn out to me. Are you feeling okay? Does anything hurt? I can actually bring you breakfast…”

It wasn’t just the clamps he didn’t test. Most of what he did to Dirk was a guessing game, and it sure  _ seemed l _ ike Dirk was enjoying himself, but he also wasn’t very coherent. Now that Dirk is awake and can use his words again, Karkat needs to make sure he didn’t go too far. Not that Dirk ever showed him the same courtesy, but…

But the blush on Dirk’s face and the obvious struggle in his eyes makes it so much easier to do. The more Dirk hates it, the more Karkat just wants to  _ dote  _ on him.

"Mh-" Dirk glares at Karkat when his head is pulled back, eyes mere slits. He bares his teeth, "I didn't-" But then Karkat's lips are on his, and though he sucks in an insulted little breath through his nose, he responds readily, a hand squeezing on Karkat's hip. 

His face warms even more as he hears Dave retreat, their lips parting with a wet little slick. He gives Karkat another little push, but this time it's mostly to punish him, not to actually push him off. It feels sinfully good to have Karkat's hands in his hair, but he will  _ never _ tell him that. 

"If anything hurts." He scoffs a little, giving Karkat a kiss that's a little more bite than kiss, pulling his lower lip into his mouth for a brief moment before letting Karkat's hand in his hair guide him back. "My balls are pretty much bruised, and I won't be able to pee without it stinging like a bitch for a while. How did you even know I-..." he stops up a little, jaw twitching. Ah, but he's not sure Karkat  _ knows _ he's into the pain. Better tread carefully here. "...had that in my closet, huh? Bet you felt like Virgin fucking Mary when you looked through my box." 

He gives Karkat a longer kiss, as if to say he doesn't  _ really _ mind, or at least that they're okay, then tries to wriggle out of Karkat's embrace again, wincing and biting his own lower lip as his raw nipples rub against Karkat's smooth chest- over the night, they're turned a lovely dark red, almost to the point of being bruised. 

"Now- let me fucking go, go make me a sandwich or something." He's still embarrassed to all fuck, being outed for being a fucking  _ cuddler _ . His dick, still as much a traitor as it was yesterday, rubs between them, and the sore pain he's feeling is just fuelling his fires.

Karkat shrugs a little, not wanting to bring up Dirk’s little disappearance again. “I found it when you weren’t home. I didn’t know if it was  _ for you _ or not, though, so I just… went for it. And you fucking loved it. You were so cute and compliant, letting me do whatever I wanted to you… Who’s the kitten  _ now,  _ hm?”

He brings the hand not in Dirk’s hair up between them to thumb over one of Dirk’s raw nipples, just to watch him squirm. “I bet you thought I didn’t have it in me. You were so easy to get strapped down, and then the  _ look  _ in your eyes when I got that out. Made me…” He pauses, the same butterflies coming back full force again. The  _ hate  _ in Dirk’s eyes really did a number on him. He’s so fucked for Dirk, it’s not even funny. “You just… really made me believe that you get it now. What kismesis means.”

He kisses Dirk again, returning little bites as he pushes against him and rolls him onto his back. He uses the leg already hooked over Dirk to roll on top of him, straddling him over the bed and still kissing him, deeper now. He digs the nails of one hand carefully into Dirk’s side, not enough to hurt, but enough to be a threat.

“And you  _ really _ liked it when I hurt you, didn’t you? Do you like being hurt, Dirk?” He drags his nails up toward Dirk’s stomach. “You were all over me afterward. So needy and desperate to please. So cute. You wanted my bulge  _ so bad.” _

"Mha--" Dirk grits his teeth firmly together despite the near zap of raw nerves from Karkat abusing his nipple- he never even knew he could get  _ that _ sensitive in just one night. 

He's about to protest, about to tell Karkat  _ fuck you _ , he wasn't easy, he just miscalculated, he -... He kind of got pitch. He got it more, he  _ felt _ it yesterday, black flames licking at him and making him want to  _ take _ , and he felt it even more when he  _ couldn't _ because he was losing. 

But Karkat must be on some kind of high, or Dirk must still be slow, because then Karkat is kissing him again, and suddenly he's on his back, and then he has to stifle a sound or two because  _ ugh _ Karkat's weight on him feels so good, and his claws, and his tongue in his mouth-... 

In the end, he can't help the little moan that gets smothered between them, and he sighs out. 

Then he tenses, already feeling like he's on a roller-coaster. 

So he got fucking found out, then. He knew Karkat wasn't a complete moron, but he'd hoped he was too into the pitch to notice how much Dirk was enjoying it. 

"Aah-..." The almost fearful moan slips out of him as Karkat rakes his claws up to Dirk's stomach, as he again realizes how vulnerable he is. The truth remains, Dirk is  _ weak _ . He's pretty sure he wouldn't be able to throw Karkat off even if he really tried. His muscles feels like goo, like he's in a nightmare and trying to punch someone. 

Thoughts race. He wants to deny the accusations, of course he does. His eyes searches Karkat's face for maliciousness,  _ real _ maliciousness. He looks for the hunger to take and give nothing back, to dominate and control and  _ punch _ and  _ hurt _ .

He looks for orange in Karkat's red eyes. But he only sees Karkat. 

That makes him want to... Not deny it. 

Even though it makes his flush burn down towards his chest, even when he glares at Karkat head on with slight fear in his eyes, he doesn't deny it. 

Hands grip at Karkat's thighs, hard, fingers digging in so hard it can't feel good, his brows scrunching up. 

He nods a little, taking a small breath in and out. It takes a lot out of him, to admit that Karkat is right. That he... wanted it. That he liked it when it hurt. That he liked it when Karkat... fuck. 

Despite it being hard, he doesn't feel regret. It makes his heart sting with relief, being able to let Karkat see that side of him.

Karkat’s heart swells and goes soft with how vulnerable Dirk is being for him. Instead of scathing remarks or a hard shove, Dirk is just… quiet. Accepting. In any other instance, he would tease Dirk for this. He probably  _ will  _ tease Dirk for this later, but for now… he can’t do anything but give Dirk what he wants.

The grip on his thighs hurts. It makes him shift where he sits, dragging his still mostly dry nook over Dirk’s still mostly soft dick. He wonders if it would hurt Dirk, to have sex so soon after what they did. He wonders… if it would be a good hurt, or a bad hurt? Where does the line sit? What does Dirk like and what does he not?

So many questions. Maybe he can grant Dirk the power to decide for himself. He might be a soft mushy mess of a human right now, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what he wants.

In fact, he seems pretty clear about what he wants. Even if he still looks scared to admit it.

So Karkat presses in a little harder with his nails, both hands now, and drags them back up Dirk’s skin. “Thank you…” is all he says, and then he’s kissing Dirk again. He rolls his hips just a little, moving easily from Dirk’s lips down to his neck, and to the angry looking bite mark. He rubs his lips over the mark, somewhere between soothing and agonizing. He’s sure that it hurts.

But Dirk _ likes  _ that it hurts. Oh, Karkat can have so much fun with this.

Much more gently than the first time, he opens up and closes his teeth over the mark again.

A stuttering breath hitches in Dirk’s chest when Karkat's nook brushes over his cock, but he sighs out a relieved little moan anyway, so hushed only Karkat can hear it, soft enough it makes his chest ache. Despite it making his balls hurt enough that he has to lock his throat so he won't moan, he pushes his hips up to meet the rolls of Karkat's hips.

For once, he seems to  _ accept _ this. Accept Karkat's touch for what it is, accepting it greedily, gratefully. 

When Karkat rakes his nails over him, he gasps into Karkat's mouth, a soft 'ah' spilling between them, his body following Karkat's hands pleadingly, wanting more of the lines of hotness seeping into his skin, sinking straight into where his arousal stirs and roils. 

"Nnh-... f-fuck-..." When Karkat's teeth sink almost gently into the bitemark, it's like black tar coats his brain, leaving him dumb and soft. The new, exciting, nervous feeling of Karkat knowing this makes him hot, this makes him weak, is intoxicating. He's ecstatic that Karkat isn't laughing at him now, not now when his breath shakes in combined pain and pleasure, so slow and deep and consuming Dirk wants it to stop as much as he wants it to continue. 

Syrupy thick, he finds his words, but he murmurs them, afraid to break the spell that's fallen over them, 

"-... Harder... Hurt me - more..." How he can manage to relax more in this pain as compared to the soft moment they just had, he doesn't know, but his hands soothes over Karkat's thighs now, disgustingly gentle.

"Karkat..."

Karkat is only a little bit stunned by how eagerly Dirk is accepting this. He should think that Dirk would still be too tired. But then again, Dirk was more than happy to suckle at his bulge until he passed out. So really, why should he be shocked?

He feels safe here, under the blankets with just the two of them. He wonders if Dirk feels the same. Even with the door wide open, it’s just him and Dirk under the sheets. Their own little world. A cocoon of vulnerability and open submission. It’s  _ almost  _ too much. He never would have thought that Dirk would let him touch him like this. Dirk is too much of a control freak, to ever let someone else take the reigns.

Gratefully, he sinks his teeth in harder and grinds his hips again. He’s definitely wet now--  _ god  _ he is a fucking sucker for this romantic shit. He can only hope that Dirk is too distracted by his own weakness that he won’t notice Karkat’s.

His bulge comes out to lap at Dirk’s stomach while he slowly grinds their hips. He shudders. His hands move to hold Dirk around his ribs, with room for his thumbs to reach up and drag sharp nails over sensitive nipples. 

As much as he wants to reach down guide Dirk’s dick inside, he’s also enjoying just… frotting against him. The rub of Dirk’s abused cock and balls against his nook is just-- it’s good. It’s just fucking right. And he’s sure it’s _ not quite enough  _ for Dirk, and that makes it all the sweeter. Maybe Dirk will beg him again.

The nails at Dirk’s ribs dig in dangerously, so close to breaking skin. He knows he’s made Dirk bleed before, but that was different. Not as intentional. He didn’t know that Dirk actually wanted it. But now he  _ knows. _

“Tell me how you’re feeling…” he says, lips still pressed against the wounded skin of Dirk’s neck. He moves a little further up, to nibble just below Dirk’s ear.

"--..." Without a sound, Dirk throws his head back, stars dancing blackenly over his vision. Fuuuuck, Karkat's wet nook against his aching genitals is  _ divine _ , and when he breathes out it's formed as an almost-sob. 

Hands scrambles over Karkat's back, because he sure isn't holding anything back, biting into him like he's  _ meat _ , sinking into already throbbing flesh until he  _ has _ to whimper. His own useless nails scratch softly down Karkat's back, pleadingly. "U-ugh, fuck-...-" 

It seems like Karkat wants to  _ drown _ him, overstimulate him- he's drooling for the bulge lapping at his stomach, and he's just about to comment on it, maybe unconsciously trying to retaliate a little, even like this, but then there's a line of  _ fire _ over his nipples that has him writhing, bucking his hips hard up into Karkat, and  _ fuck!!!  _

"A-ah- -... ah- nn- " He's hazy with it, and he's about to say  _ fuck it _ , let Karkat take full control again when he realizes the door is wide fucking open. 

Now. Karkat hearing him like this is a lot. New, a lot, overbearing even. But  _ Dave _ hearing him like this? 

He'll have to stay strong for this. 

He presses his lips together, bubbling excitement expanding in his chest. Guess he can properly check off 'exhibitionist' while he's at it. As he thinks it, as he thinks who it is listening, it dampens his haze a little; this is  _ Dave _ . 

Get your shit together, Dirk, you only _ just _ got over what happened. 

Brought back by Karkat's question, he brings a weak hand up to Karkat's hair, encouraging more than forcing Karkat's head close to his own, though the lips so close to his ear makes his skin break out in goosebumps.

"Feels-... so much..." He's panting, he suddenly feels, his chest heaving with the combined exquisite pain Karkat has brought upon him. His forehead is damp, and he feels even  _ weaker _ than before. He still feels the terror clinging at him for not having total control, but it's... More bearable. "But.. good. Shit, Karkat."

A small break, for him to  _ breathe _ , then, "Kiss..." He murmurs it softly, eyeing the door again, then fastening his eyes on Karkat's, glancing down to his lips. He won't say please, he's still present enough to find gratuitous begging too much, but... 

He needs  _ something _ stifling the slutty little noises he's making. 

Maybe he's cute enough that Karkat will take the bait.

Karkat is so close--  _ so fucking close _ to slipping into something more primal. Hurting Dirk was one thing. Dominating Dirk was fine. But  _ putting his actual hands on Dirk... _ It’s pulling something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

He’s about to rake his claws down across Dirk’s skin, unbothered by how deep he might be, nothing but pure black spades in his eyes. But then Dirk says _ so much-- _ and he’s not sure if that means  _ too much  _ or  _ just enough. _

He falters a bit, his mind catching up with what he’s doing, and then there’s a breathless request for a kiss, and suddenly it’s all he can focus on. Dirk is falling apart in his hands all over again and it feels s _ o right. _

He pounces at the opportunity to have his mouth on Dirk’s again. Sharp teeth find soft lips, and he can smell blood, but he can’t tell where it’s coming from. His hands haven’t moved, but maybe he’s dug in just a little too hard. Maybe he closed his teeth too hard around Dirk’s lip. Oh fuck, he can taste it, and  _ goddamn  _ he’s so fucking wet now. His nook slides easily where he continues to grind on Dirk, smearing material all across his hips and thighs.

Dirk is showing him so much weakness, and part of him is  _ dying  _ to take advantage of it. He wants to--  _ he won’t-- _ but it would be  _ so easy. _ Dirk wouldn’t stand a chance against him like this, not as a human.

He’s  _ human, _ calm the fuck down.

“Hate you…” he hisses against Dirk’s mouth. He’s breathing quickly, and there’s a rumbling sound, and-- is he fucking growling? He kisses Dirk again, softer, a sort of apology. “Give me a second…” he whispers, and he lowers his head to tuck into Dirk’s shoulder.

He presses closed eyes into too-hot skin and takes a calming breath. His hands relax where they’re still clinging around Dirk’s ribs, to the pads of his fingers, letting his nails lift away from where there are probably puncture wounds. He soothes the palms of his hands down to Dirk’s sides and gives another needy roll of his hips.

"Mmh-" Their kiss turns  _ bloody _ , and the tar in Dirk's mind simply thickens. Karkat's grinding turns more vicious, more primal, and  _ fuck _ it's so hot, he has to gasp some more. 

_ Hate you _ .. Coupled with the sound of Karkat's growl, it's  _ perfect _ . He's read about this, and at this point he was almost certain Karkat had gotten too soft for it. This is  _ pitch _ . 

And then he thinks he can hide away from it? When Dirk is opening himself up like a fucking present in front of him? 

Fuck no. 

He falls back against the mattress, so that Karkat can't hide against his shoulder. Though his grip is weak, he grabs onto Karkat's jaw, panting, squishing Karkat's lips together mockingly. As if he can't take what Karkat dishes out. 

As if he doesn't  _ hunger _ for it. He can feel a slight tickling from blood spilling because of Karkat's claws, the pain of them having dug into him. It's  _ addicting _ . 

He can't believe Karkat thinks he'd want to  _ stop _ . 

"Poor little Kitty..." he murmurs, so soft and mockingly  _ pitying _ . "Got his-... ha... claws so filed down he's scared to even  _ try _ being proper pitch..." He arches his chest, baring his throat prettily for the troll, temptingly- or maybe mocking in that sense too, as if to say Karkat can't even hurt him if he  _ tries _ . 

He looks fucked up already; red lines on his chest, over each nipple where they seem raw enough to start bleeding, small needle pricks from Karkat's claws on his sides, scratches over his stomach, lip bleeding....

"Can't be a proper troll even when I'm  _ offering _ .... tut tut...." He's pretty sure it shows, the spades in his own eyes, the black soaking in him. 

Sure that it's an  _ awful _ idea, he lets go of Karkat's jaw to give him a none-too-gentle slap to the cheek, grinning ferociously, all teeth and gum, reeking of fear and excitement and  _ hunger _ .

"Such a soft kitty...." He licks his lip, sighing in fake disappointment.

Karkat knows better… he  _ knows better _ than to turn his full wrath against a human like this. He knows Dirk’s skin is softer than his, his bones more fragile. Dirk might know his way around a sword or a fist fight, but physically, Karkat will always be tougher. Maybe not stronger, but  _ rougher. _

And Dirk is _ asking for it. _

Any hesitation or second thoughts are wiped clean away when Dirk slaps him. It doesn’t really hurt, but it  _ snaps  _ something. Dirk is mocking him, and he has no idea what he’s asking for, but damn it all if Karkat isn’t going to  _ show him. _

His eyes lock onto Dirk’s throat, bitten and bleeding, arched up and exposed. He can  _ smell  _ the blood and the fear, swirled together with thick, heavy arousal. It rolls through him, unbearably hot, and then both hands are wrapped firmly around Dirk’s throat.

He  _ squeezes,  _ letting Dirk feel the cold terror of having his air supply cut off. He watches, holding steady until Dirk’s eyes start to glaze over, then moves his thumbs away from Dirk’s windpipe. He presses his thumbs into either side of Dirk’s neck, where the blood flows, letting the black fuzz continue to edge around Dirk’s mind.

After Dirk’s had a good breath, Karkat ducks down to kiss it right back out of him. He’s overbearing, licking into Dirk’s mouth, pulling with his teeth. He’s still growling, low and steady. His mind is zeroed in on one thing, laced with black flames: making Dirk  _ fucking suffer. _

“You’ve got a big fucking mouth, for a human who cried over a few little clamps last night,” he says, voice dangerous, lips hovering over Dirk’s. His eyes are open now, staring challengingly into Dirk’s. His bulge writhes between them and moves to wrap tightly around Dirk’s cock. The tip of it teases at Dirk’s slit, licking at it, prodding.

“Why don’t you put it to better use, and ask me  _ please  _ for what you want.” One hand moves from Dirk’s throat up to his hair, where he fists his fingers in tightly and keeps Dirk’s neck craned back. The other lingers around his throat, threatening to clamp down again, before he chooses to press his nails in instead and drag them down the middle of Dirk’s chest. “I’m not above leaving you here. You weren’t  _ strong  _ enough to get me off last night, I’ll do it again myself if I have to.”

Hands on Dirk’s throat. He tries to gasp in surprise, but he can't. His hands fly to Karkat's wrists, but compared, Karkat is iron and Dirk is water. 

Maybe this wasn't the brightest idea he's ever had. 

Just as he feels his face is changing into an unattractive colour and his eyes roll back, the pressure lets up, and Dirk  _ heaves _ , breathing in so hard and quick that he starts coughing. Only a couple breaths in, and Karkat is on him again, stealing his breath away with his lips, tongue and teeth. He coughs against Karkat's lips, trying his best to kiss back, tongue laving against Karkat's needily. He can't seem to clear his head though, the black fuzz at the edge of his vision continuing, and he's not quite sure why. 

He takes it all back. This is the  _ best _ decision. 

Despite knowing that he is absolutely, completely  _ fucked _ , he can't help the smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips- yeah,  _ hell _ yeah, see what he's turned Karkat into? This is how much Dirk affects  _ him _ .

It must show in his gaze, wide-eyed and teary, but  _ excited _ . Orange eyes scan over Karkat's face, taking him in as he coughs in another breath, pupils dilated. 

As Karkat's bulge wraps around him, his eyes widen, brows jumping up, and he chokes on a whimper, his mouth opening as he feels the tip of it threatening at his slit- he  _ wouldn't _ . He  _ can't _ \-- right? 

"--A-..." His head is wrenched backwards and though Karkat's claws are supposed to be intimidating- they  _ are, _ they honestly are, Dirk should probably a lot more concerned than he is- he chases the touch, bucking up against Karkat pleadingly, moaning out the best he can. 

" _ Uhhh _ .." He's not even sure what he wants. He just wants Karkat to  _ take _ . He can't ask that though, it's... it doesn't make sense. It's too embarrassing.

"M-... -..." he tries to find his words, but Karkat's bulge on him hurts  _ deliciously _ , the words making him  _ burn _ with humiliation. They're cruel, and they're probably true. 

"NNnn-... Nook..." He manages to grit out; honestly, he'll be ecstatic with whatever it is Karkat cooks up with his feral, unhinged mind, but the easiest is sex- he's not sure if sounding with Karkat's bulge is even  _ possible _ , he's  _ afraid to ask _ it. "Ni- hipples-... Uh-" Hands are still gripping weakly at Karkat's wrists, not able to stop their movements at all. It's like he's not even trying. 

His cock drools, and the precome seeping out  _ burns _ .

“Hmm…” Karkat looks down on Dirk with unsympathetic eyes. “Looks like I did more than just  _ bruise _ your balls. Where the fuck is the follow up for your taunting? Are you really just going to fold like this under me?”

Where Karkat found Dirk’s weakness endearing before, he finds it nothing but what it is now,  _ weak.  _ Where’s the fight Dirk always likes to put up? Is this it for him? Is this how easy it is?

Dave’s breakfast is entirely forgotten as Karkat sneers at Dirk. “You forgot to say please,” he growls. The blankets are no longer a haven, only a burden to be pushed away as he sits up and turns Dirk under him. It’s easier than it should be to manhandle Dirk around, flipping him onto his stomach and pinning him there.

“Maybe this is what you wanted?” he asks. Both hands grip Dirk by the hips, tugging him up to meet his own. Nails dig into skin, leaving short, bloody, red lines where he holds onto Dirk. His bulge continues to wiggle and search for something to sink into, and Karkat lets it squirm along the line of Dirk’s asscheeks.

He never would have considered such a thing on his own, but after the things Dirk has done to him… maybe Dirk should have a taste of his own medicine. Who needs a nook, when Dirk has a perfectly good back hole?

He spreads Dirk open with his thumbs, and his bulge immediately dives between and laps at Dirk’s hole. Red genetic material smears along Dirk’s skin, and the sight of it makes Karkat shudder. Dirk is  _ his, _ and he’s never going to get Karkat’s smell off of him.

“Ask me again,” he demands, sharp nails threatening to do more damage than they already have. He can just  _ see _ Dirk’s back being torn to shreds, and it’s a fantasy he would love to make a reality. “Use your fucking manners this time.”

Karkat's words  _ shake  _ him. 

When he stares up at Karkat, who's very much  _ not  _ gentle anymore, who's tearing into him physically and mentally, who's looking down at Dirk in almost-disappointment, walls slam up again.

He was fooled by that sweetness. Despite knowing that Karkat wanted it pitch, despite knowing  _ he _ wanted it pitch, he'd still gone soft for him. Still  _ begged.  _ Sweetness had... Shit. He'd given Karkat what he wanted, and he'd been enthralled when Karkat told him that was  _ good. _

He'd given Karkat too much material to work with, it seems.

Loathing slams into him, strangling him better than Karkat ever could. He can only stare up at Karkat in outrage until he's flipped over, and his fists immediately clenches on the sheets, a strangled yelp coming out of him and his bruised balls, cock and nipples chafe against it. 

Despite knowing he's weak, so weak he doesn't know if it's a mental ting or not, he kicks- rams his heel into Karkat's lower back, not caring that Karkat's tentacle dick is wriggling along his crack, only tensing up when Karkat sinks his claws in him. He hooks his fingers and tries scratching back at one of Karkat's arms, not quite in reach but at least managing it once. 

The frustrated, livid groan that scratches out of his throat is almost a  _ yell,  _ he's so  _ mad.  _

_ "Fuck you,  _ Vantas!" He kicks again, tries to wriggle out from between Karkat's legs, clenching his teeth and _ bucking, _ trying to lift Karkat off himself. At full power he'd probably manage, but he at least manages to jostle him a little.

Poking at Karkat like that hadn't been a good idea, but Karkat poking him back snapped him out of that soft, dumb daze he's been in- he feels  _ tricked, _ and he wants Karkat to  _ pay. _

"Like I'll--" he's panting, he's still physically so out of it and it just makes everything  _ worse. _ "Say please to a fu-cking  _ bitch _ like- you!" His volume-control is approximately zero; he couldn't care less who's outside, listening in- the person he needs to know his words is right here, on top of him. 

"This is what you- haa-  _ really  _ are, take a  _ good fucking look, _ you cunt!" Breathing hurts, and maybe that's the lump in his throat, but he thinks it's just from breathing so  _ hard. _ "I might like pain, but look-  _ ugh,  _ look at you  _ dishing it out!!" _

He tries scratching at Karkat again, and this time he rakes his nails over Karkat's chest, leaving kind of unimpressive red lines. 

"How about this- pretty _ please _ get the FUCK over yourself and fuck me like a troll should! You play-pretend fucking  _ soft kitten!!" _ And that's just it, isn't it- he's  _ pretending _ to be all soft, pretends to be all good and kind and disguising it with a thin layer of grumpy shoutiness, but Dirk  _ knew  _ from the beginning. 

Karkat is a troll. And trolls can't hide their nature.

Reality slams into Karkat all at once. He wasn’t-- he wasn’t  _ pretending, _ he really… He really put that look of betrayal on Dirk’s face, didn’t he?

He went too far.

Fuck.

Everything stops for a few seconds. He hesitates now. His jaw locks on itself so he won’t any anything else stupid.  _ He went too far, _ goddamnit,  _ what is he supposed to do?  _ Dirk is never going to trust him again after this, and his heart runs cold just thinking about it.

His fingers clench where they’re wrapped around Dirk still, but it isn’t anger than makes him do it. He’s  _ upset.  _ He wants to apologize again, but Dirk didn’t want to hear it the first time, why would he want to hear it now?

His lips press into a thin line as he looks down at what he’s doing. The least he can do at this point is give Dirk what he asked for, even if he doesn’t particularly feel like doing it anymore.

Why the fuck does he feel like crying all of a sudden?

He lets his slick bulge pry at Dirk’s hole, and it pushes in just a bit. It’s tight, so it can’t get very far, but the thin tip of it is the perfect prep into the fat base of it. It wiggles in a little, then retreats and laps at the rim, before trying again.

He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s said enough already, hasn’t he?

He plays over his own words in his mind again. He took Dirk’s vulnerability and threw it right back in his face. That’s not pitch, that’s just nasty. Why the hell did he say that? He didn’t even mean it. He was only trying to get Dirk to say please, it wasn’t even that important or serious, but he…

He fucked up.

He doesn’t deserve to call this pitch anymore.

He’s not even paying attention as his bulge slowly works Dirk open. He’s lost in his own head, going through the motions on auto pilot. He smoothes a comforting hand over Dirk’s lower back, before stopping dead in his tracks and second guessing himself.

Dirk thinks he was  _ faking it. _

If Dirk thinks he’s nothing more than a violent monster, then he might as well  _ be it.  _ So he turns his fingers in to scrape nails over skin instead. It’s stupid, it’s so stupid, he can’t fucking breathe. 

He’s choked up, but he swallows it down. His skin crawls with regret and hurt feelings. He’s the worst idiot on the fucking planet, why did he let it go that far?

He thought he knew better. Apparently he doesn’t.

Unaware of Karkat's sudden turmoil, Dirk is still  _ boiling.  _

_ 'Are you really just going to fold like this under me?'  _ It makes his  _ teeth _ hurt, because he  _ was.  _ He was going to go pliant under him, give in, let Karkat have it, but he'd looked  _ disappointed  _ by it. 

"What, cat get your tongue?!" His fingers scrabble at the sheets, still trying to buck Karkat away, give him any sort of resistance so he won't be fucking  _ bored  _ with him. His body aches. 

His heart aches a little as well, but he drowns it in lava-hot anger, trying to fuel his muscles with it. Karkat wants him to fight him, does he? Well, that's just peachy, because the possibility of him saying please right now is  _ zero. _

It scares him that he won't be able to do more than that right now. He's already shaking with the strain of trying to retaliate physically, and what does he have on Karkat? Another fat fucking zero. Since yesterday, he hasn't done anything but lose, lose  _ lose. _

Dirk becomes more aware of the bulge prepping him up. He hasn't done anal in forever, but the way it's slowly stretching him out almost feels kind, the way it darts in and out, inching into him slowly. Paired with a soothing stroke to his lower back, it sends Dirk into  _ frothing.  _

"Don't you  _ dare  _ be gentle with me!!" He hits his fist into the mattress as hard as he can, something resembling panic clawing in him- he can't _ handle  _ softness now, he can't handle salt in his wounds like that. 

Going soft under Karkat now will break him, he's sure of it.

He takes it into his own hands, literally, twisting an arm behind himself flicking Karkat's bulge away to roughly prep himself; digging one, then two fingers in, shoulder taut and forehead against the mattress, chest heaving. 

Even though it smarts something fierce he digs a third finger in, scissoring until he feels the ring of his hole stinging. Fuck Karkat. Fuck him.  _ Fuck him.  _

Slowly, the excitement has been ebbing out of him, replaced by grim determination. The pain still feels good, his own fingers in him feels good, even Karkat's bulge feels  _ good.  _

It feels a little empty. 

When he's sure he's prepped enough to take at least most of Karkat's bulge, he reaches for Karkat's bulge again, gives it an unkind tug and slicking the curling tip of it against his now decidedly more loose hole. 

"Do your fucking worst," he growls out, shoulders tense. 

This wasn't how he wanted it to go, but fuck if he's backing down.

Karkat has never felt so helpless. He can hear the heartbreak in Dirk’s voice, feel it in every buck and shove. This needs to  _ stop,  _ he needs to let Dirk know that he’s okay, that he’s sorry, that it doesn’t have to  _ be  _ like this.

But he knows how Dirk is. And he knows he made it infinitely worse by calling Dirk weak. Like Dirk doesn’t constantly tell  _ him _ he’s soft and weak, a  _ kitten.  _ Fuck, that doesn’t matter right now. Maybe he _ is _ too soft, he can’t even keep up with one too-rough fuck. Dirk is doing it  _ for him,  _ for Christ’s sake.

This is wrong. All of this is wrong, and it hurts. But he can’t stop, Dirk would never let him. He knows that mercy hurts Dirk more than anything he could ever do with his hands. The tone Dirk is using with him, that broken  _ ’Do your worst…’  _ He can’t fucking stand it.

Just do it, Karkat, get it over with. Give him what he wants.

He almost can’t believe his bulge is even still out, but he lets it find Dirk’s hole again. This time, it easily slips halfway in, curling delightfully into the slick heat as it does. It’s still tight, probably  _ too tight,  _ but he doesn’t really have anything to reference on that matter, so he pushes his hips more flush against Dirk’s, forcing it deeper inside.

He still hasn’t said anything. He’s completely at a loss for words. He hasn’t really moved his hands, and he feels stiff. He should probably be bent down, kissing or biting into the skin of Dirk’s back, but he’s afraid to move. Just being inside Dirk alone is enough to make his chest tight.

How is he supposed to talk to Dirk about this? If Dirk doesn’t want Karkat’s softness, if he’s walled himself back up after how far they’ve come as a couple… does this mean it’s over? Did he fuck up  _ that badly  _ that it’s never going to be the same?

His chest pulls even tighter, and now there’s a lump in his throat to match, and he can’t swallow it down. He’s  _ definitely  _ going to start crying, but he can’t do it in front of Dirk. Just wait a little bit longer, he can do it when this is over.

When…  _ they  _ might be over.

His bulge curls and twists excitedly in Dirk. Despite how much Karkat hurts, it has a mind of its own, which is good. Dirk doesn’t need to know that anything is wrong. So with that, he pulls his hips back and pushes all the way back in.

He starts fucking into Dirk the way he hopes that Dirk wants, but he’s numb to it. He hopes he has it in him to cum this time, because if he doesn’t, will Dirk take that as another offense? God fucking damnit, how did things get this bad, when they were just getting  _ so good? _

"_Aah_-..." The bulge in him stretches him out hard, but before a second sound comes out he's clenching down on it. 

He's reeling. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to react? Being soft isn't the answer, as he's been cruelly fucking reminded by yours truly, but Karkat is being suspiciously silent as well now, when he's trying (trying so fucking hard, it's  _ so hard  _ to work like this, his body strained to the max and a lump only growing in his throat) to do the opposite. 

He exhales hard, rigid under Karkat but fighting to stay that way. It had been so fucking good, yesterday. He thought he'd  _ had  _ it, he thought he'd understood pitch, finally. Boy does he feel fucking dumb now. 

Luckily, it seems like his body is still more than aboard with what's going on. Despite his disastrous emotions, his cock is hard, and Karkat's bulge in him is a lot but  _ warm, _ thrashing inside him like Hentai's got nothing on it. 

He struggles to keep the resulting sounds in, but now he's _ trying. _ Desperate little gasps in, hisses through clenched teeth, determined little grunt at a particularly hard thrust. 

As per usual, he's ripping himself apart; he couldn't do something _ right  _ for once, could he. Just had to push too far, just had to be weak enough to not handle the backlash, too weak to see through Karkat's little plan, _ too weak.  _

He growls out weakly into his own arm, clenching down punishingly on Karkat's bulge- at this point he's not really that busy trying to come, he just... 

Hopes this is done with, soon. It's not fucking fun, anymore.

Dirk’s lack of words, lack of  _ sound  _ overall tells Karkat that he’s enjoying this about as much as  _ he _ is. They should just fucking stop, they really should, but he knows that Dirk’s ego couldn’t take it if he did.

But all he wants to do is  _ hug Dirk. _

The idea that he might not get the chance pierces through him like a shitty fucking sword through the heart.

He keeps going, because at this point, what else is he supposed to do? He’s been cornered by his own stupid mouth and his apparent inability to control himself. He doesn’t deserve to call himself a romantic. What will  _ Dave  _ think? It’s not like he can get away with hurting Dave’s family and expect to keep either one of them.

Fuck this.

He fucks into Dirk quicker, his bulge squirming even more frantically with the desperation of his movements. One hand moves around Dirk’s hip to wrap around his dick. The faster this is over, the better. He can feel his own orgasm bubbling up, but it makes him fucking sick. It aches awfully, feels shameful, it’s a terrible feeling. 

He pushes on, until it finally surfaces and spills out of him. It’s so painful, a sob chokes up in his throat. It  _ sucks. _ It’s not what he wants  _ at all.  _ Material spills between his legs, but it’s nothing like it usually is. It’s sad, short, restrained. His bulge retreats almost immediately, but he keeps moving his hand over Dirk’s cock.

Please, just let this end peacefully.

Dirk simply tries sinking into his physical feelings- the way his nipples chafe against the sheets, they way Karkat's bulge  _ writhes _ against his prostate, the fresh slap of Karkat's hips against him, claws digging into flesh.

He hates that he's still really aroused physically, when what he really wants is to curl up and sleep, lick his wounds. 

When Karkat ups the pace, he bites his own arm to keep a sound in, exhaling over clenched teeth. Karkat is being so fucking  _ quiet _ , it's not like him. He fears that if he turns around he'll see Karkat with lidded, disappointed, uninterested eyes, so he refrains from looking. 

Finally, he feels Karkat spill, and he might not be a specialist, but it's not a lot. Probably unsatisfactory. Karkat makes a noise, and he's not sure how to interpret it; it sounded painful. 

A hand wraps itself around his dick, and it's mostly his masochism that brings him over the edge, the come dripping out of him  _ burning _ up the urinary-tract. 

Teeth still firmly seated in the flesh of his lower arm, he lets out a quiet groan, a shiver running up his spine. It's over. Thank fuck. 

He pants for a long while, not even bothering to shoo away the hand on his dick, and he tries not to let betrayal set into him like heartburn. He'd really thought he'd understood, is all, that's probably why he got caught off guard. He thought he and Karkat had been on the same wavelength, had come to a kind of non-verbal agreement where they were at.

After carefully dislodging his teeth from flesh, he mutters "I don't think I understand pitch at all." 

Not even the afterglow can quite fool his body into relaxing, and he remains on his elbows and knees, ass still pressed against his boyfriend. 

"But I guess you got me good." There, a little better. Not quite as shaky as his first utterance. He'll just have to work harder, he guesses. He can probably, maybe get an upper hand next time. 

If Karkat even  _ wants _ a next time.

Karkat doesn’t move much, but he takes his hands off Dirk and shifts his hips back so they’re no longer touching. Dirk’s voice sounds garbled in his ears, and it takes him a second to even figure out what he’s saying. His own voice doesn’t sound like his own when he replies, “I guess.” It’s tight, pulled taught, like it could snap at any second.

The tension is unbearable. Every part of him had been screaming to just  _ leave _ a few seconds ago, but… is Dirk trying to talk to him? Is that what that was? It gives Karkat the tiniest sliver of hope, that they might be able to work it out. If they can just talk about it...

But he’s numb. Not a single part of his body is working right, and the words get stuck in his mouth. The silence continues for what feels like a lifetime, and then.

“That was  _ bad,  _ Dirk,” he says. And suddenly it all comes rushing out of him. Even if Dirk  _ doesn’t  _ want to talk to him, he can’t hold it in. His eyes  _ burn  _ with hot tears that he doesn’t even bother trying to stop. “What the fuck  _ was  _ that? I’m...” He doesn’t know what to say, though his voice is shockingly steady. His hands ball into fists so tight, his claws dig into his own hands. He’s never wanted to be held so badly in his life.

And he’s never felt further away from Dirk.

“That wasn’t pitch, that was something _ ugly _ and I never--” Fuck, he can’t fucking see. He swipes at his own eyes, smearing tears over his cheeks. His face is hot and he’s _ upset  _ and he’s so fucking lost. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking--” his words are muffled now by his hands, which cover his entire face. “ _ Stupid. _ So fucking stupid. I didn’t mean it, I was…”

He’s shaking now, unable to cope with how _ bad _ he feels. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to  _ take it  _ if Dirk turns him away like this, and his fight or flight instincts are telling him to  _ get the fuck out of here. _

He starts to back away, but the guilt and the self-loathing make him  _ dizzy.  _ He doesn’t even make it off the bed before he’s collapsing in on himself. He’s taking quiet, quick breaths, like his lungs can’t hold any oxygen in them. He can’t think straight, everything aches, and he’s just  _ waiting  _ for Dirk to tell him to get out and not come back. It’s what he deserves.

“I’m sorry…” he says again, but his hands are still on his face, and it’s too quiet.

Dirk listens on, mostly in silence. Yeah, it felt bad. Glad that's... On the table at least. A small part of him thinks,  _ good, _ that at least Karkat didn't get anything out of it. 

It might be a selfish thought. 

But then he -... Well, fuck, he's  _ apologizing,  _ and that's not fair, cause he was his share of asshole in this too, he was the one who  _ pushed,  _ Karkat just retaliated-... 

"Look," he lowers his ass and pushes himself in a kneeling position, turning to Karkat. 

Ah. He's crying. 

For an awful, awful moment, Dirk takes joy in it. Because  _ he  _ hurts, and Karkat should too. For that awful moment, he considers ripping into that vulnerability, to taunt him, to use the same words as Karkat used because hell, an eye for an eye, right? 

But... He's fucking apologizing. And there's hot, pink tears all over his face, and he looks a fucking mess. 

He moves a hand towards Karkat's knee, but lets it fall limp. Not sure he can... get in on that situation. Not when- when he's not even sure what's going on between them right now. 

"...like... what...  _ did  _ you mean...?" he asks His brows furrow up, but the lump in his throat is manageable. As horrible as the thought is, Karkat's crying-face is pretty ugly, so he can focus on that a little as he forces back his own tired tears.

Okay, so he's pinching his thigh hard enough to bruise, but whatever. 

"Cause... yeah." He shrugs a little, unwilling to say it hurt him. Not sure what Karkat will say to that. He doesn't want it slapped in his face again. 

"What's got you all twisted up?"

Karkat still can’t get a good breath of air, and he’d rather die right now than face how much of a fuck up he is, but Dirk is  _ here, _ right? He hasn’t left yet, so that at least means he’s willing to listen.

“I don’t know. I got carried away and just said the meanest thing that came to mind, even if it wasn’t true. But I  _ felt  _ you slipping away from me and we were doing  _ so good  _ before this. I…”

He’s still got his hands over his eyes. The tears won’t stop, and he’s hot with shame and doesn’t think he can handle seeing Dirk’s disgusted face.

“I didn’t like any of that. I wanted to stop and make it better, but I felt like I couldn’t. Like you’d think I was pitying you or something, but you’re not weak, okay? God damnit.”

He curls in on himself a little more, a whole new wave of hopelessness making him even more tense. “You’re never going to open up to me again, I  _ ruined  _ it…” His voice finally cracks under the pressure. 

He’s not brave enough to ask if they’re over.

Some anger still simmers in Dirk, but what hurt the most was the betrayal, and that... That might have just been a heat-in-the-moment anger. That... Helps. A little, at least. 

Karkat also seems to feel... What Dirk felt. About yesterday. And that also... that's a healing balm over his hurt, knowing that... Maybe it  _ was _ good, that he hadn't been completely fucking duped. 

He kind of wants to be more angry at the troll than he actually is. He's still hurt, and he's all raw and rubbed wrong and now his ass is added to the mass of hurt area on his body. It was mostly his own fault as well, but yeah. 

Dirk's heart breaks a little as Karkat's voice cracks, and some of the last proper flames of anger snuffs out. 

He... he thought, during this whole fiasco, that he probably wouldn't. It's weird, because he never really thought they'd end end their relationship because of that. 

Because he still  _ cares _ about Karkat. 

"Okay, first of all, calm your rumblespheres." He sighs it out, the same way he'd calm down Dave when he'd found Dave tearfully trying to glue his favourite cup back together. 

"I...  _ we _ ruined it, okay? You... asked me to give you some time, and I pushed. That wasn't okay either. And." 

A pause, where he listens to Karkat's snivels, "Yesterday, I... yeah, I... that was..." Fuck, admitting this after Karkat, even if acidentally, slung his feelings in his face is  _ hard _ . Another deep sigh, "Good. It was good. I felt like... yeah, I understood that." 

He soldiers on, "And then today, it was like, psyche, waddup, look at your dumb ass, thinking it was cool to let your guard down. Plot twist of the century over here, and." Fuck, rambling, 

"And. No. That..." he struggles with the lump in his throat, a heavy swallow. "That  _ sucked _ . So. If that's part of pitch, then... yeah, I dunno if I'm made for that shit, y'know? But I get that... This wasn't what you wanted, either."

Carefully, he put a hand on Karkat's knee, sighing, "Can't we fix this...?" 

He wants to fix this.

Karkat’s heart aches in his chest, listing to Dirk ask if they can  _ fix this. _ Dirk WANTS to fix it, and that’s just… such a fucking relief.

The tension rolls off him in heavy, gross slops, and it makes him cry harder, but he pulls his hands away from his face to finally look at Dirk. “I want to fix it…” he agrees. “This wasn’t… I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t normal. That’s not how pitch should feel.”

With Dirk’s hand on him, he feels like he can risk to take it further. If Dirk pushes him off, then… well, that’s that. So he moves to wrap his arms around Dirk’s waist and lay his head on his thigh. “I’m sorry,” he says again. And maybe Dirk  _ did  _ push him… He had tried to back off, but-- 

This isn’t about blame. It’s about moving on. 

“Despite what just happened… I’m glad you feel the same way about last night… It was really good, Dirk, like… _ really good…” _

He takes a deep breath in, the first one he’s had in what feels like hours. “And today started out good… The cuddling was good. The aggression was _ great,  _ until… mm…” Guilt hits him again, but he swallows it down. He’s already said he was sorry, and Dirk is still with him, so… that’s something, right? “We can work on it… if you liked it…”

He turns his head to look up at Dirk, half a smile starting to pull at his face. “Or maybe I should just leave the reigns in your hands, so you can keep fucking me stupid and I won’t get carried away again.”

Then, he frowns again, but it’s less desperate and more focused than before. His eyes have mostly stopped watering. “I don’t know where that even came from, that’s… never happened to me before. I hope what we had yesterday isn’t… lost… because of it…”

There's a small sound of surprise as Karkat gets himself situated in Dirk’s lap, but there's hardly much of a pause before a hand is carding through Karkat’s hair, then another one, both of them soothing and combing. The pads of his thumbs gently feel out for Karkat's horns so he won't jostle them somehow. 

"Mm.." He hums as Karkat keeps on talking, slowly sorting through his own feelings. It's as good as impossible for him to  _ really  _ understand what Karkat feels, but he tries setting himself in his position. 

Dirk said some pretty awful things back, in retrospect. Pretty much looked at how ugly Karkat was behaving and telling him that's what he  _ really i _ s.

"You know, I did some.. Research on troll kismesissitude..." He cups the back of Karkat's head, then slides his hand down his back, up to his neck again, down. 

"At a certain point, there's some hormones released in a pitch relationship that, like. It's different from person to person, but it's like. A shot of fucking testosterone, y'know." 

He scritches a little at the small hairs of Karkat's neck, breathing out a little sigh, "and I thought it was fucking hot. So when you started growling I was like, hell yeah, bring that shit. Uhh, but I shoulda.. maybe talked to you about it first." 

A small pause, where Dirk tries to find the words, tries lowering some of those walls again, "I wanted. I wanted to show you that I..." He tsks at himself when the words get stuck in his throat, and he rakes his nails gently down Karkat's back. "That  _ you  _ can be a troll, with me. Not just. Caterin' to my human needs, you know. I wanted it to be about.. letting go."

He snorts a little, giving Karkat's ear a scolding but mostly playful little tug. "Wasn't expecting your big fat mouth to let go too, I guess. It was... hot. Before that, though. Just fyi." He says it casually, but his voice is a little strained. It had been hot. 

Karkat's eyes on his, hands around his throat, the way Karkat _ seethed. _ He brushes a hand over Karkat's cheek, getting rid out of a couple of pink streaks there, trying for a small smile back. It probably looks weird as fuck on his face. 

"Like, not complaining about this per se, but can I lie down. My body is, kinda shutting down on me."

Karkat gets lost a little, in the gentle way Dirk is petting him. The things Dirk says are softened significantly by the hands on his skin, in his hair.

So Dirk  _ did  _ do research. He  _ knew _ what Karkat was trying to hold back, and pushed him anyway. That… Karkat isn’t sure how to feel about that. He almost feels used, like Dirk played him and then didn’t like what he got back.

Something to think about.

The petting helps, but... He looks up again when Dirk asks to lay down. Dirk’s hair is  _ fucked _ and he looks like he’s been through hell and back. Not to mention the cum and genetic material drying into the skin of his legs. He sits up, regrettably away from Dirk’s hold, and sighs. “Yeah, lay down for a few minutes. I’ll go run a bath and come back to get you. Dave is waiting for us, remember?”


	8. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Karkat make up over a bath before breakfast.

Karkat doesn’t wait for a yes or a no from Dirk before getting out of bed. He doesn’t bother covering up before making his way to the bathroom; he knows Dave knows exactly what went down (or at least… that they had sex, maybe not the rest of it) so there’s no reason to be coy about it.

In the bathroom, he sits on the edge of the tub and starts the water, feeling it until it gets extra hot, and then stopping up the drain. He stares at the water running while it fills, trying not to think too hard about anything.

But he’s thinking.

He cares about Dirk. A lot. More than he probably should, considering how young their relationship is. There are things he wants to share with Dirk, things he wants to grow through  _ together.  _ But Dirk kind of… rushed things just now. Maybe there’s room for that kind of violence in the future, but for now, neither of them is ready for it. A troll would have taken what Karkat said and rolled into something even nastier, but Dirk.

Dirk is human.

He can sympathize with Dirk wanting more out of Karkat. Of feeling like he’s holding Karkat back from something. But he’s  _ not.  _ Karkat has taken the time to learn about humans, and he’s lived with them for so long, it’s basically second nature for him. He’s used to it. Dirk hasn’t had the same luxury. He’s not _ prepared  _ for everything Karkat has been keeping down.

And it’s not even like he’s forcing it down. It’s just… who he’s become. It’s not a burden or anything. That’s not to say… he wouldn’t enjoy a more violent romp. But again, Dirk is  _ human.  _ His skin isn’t as thick, literally or figuratively.

They definitely need to have a deeper talk later.

Shit, the water is too full.

He hurries up and shuts the water off and stares at the too-full tub for a few extra seconds.

They’re going to be okay, he thinks. They just need to… calm the fuck down a little. Take things slower. Talk like adults.

And, actually, Dirk handled this  _ very maturely,  _ now that he can think about it. It’s not what he would have ever expected from Dirk, but… Wow. They _ talked  _ and didn’t run away from each other. That makes him smile again, this time from the heart.

He gets up and goes back to Dirk’s room to grab him. He’s going to kiss the  _ fuck  _ out of that stupid asshole.

' _ If you liked it _ .' 

Dirk collapses gratefully onto the mattress as Karkat slips out of the room, giving off a soft moan. He manages to fling the duvet over his nether parts, and he breathes heavily as he thinks through everything that just happened. 

It seems like... Like, Karkat wants to cater to  _ him _ . Like Dirk would be the only one to enjoy Karkat going a little crazy on hormones.

Was Karkat not aware that he would do that? Maybe he didn't enjoy it? 

Guilt is slow but certain, a stinging pain in his gut. He hadn't wanted to...  _ force _ Karkat into anything. He was doing the exact opposite by trying to free him from like. Human-norm. 

He was sure he could take it. Physically. Ugh. They both fucked up. 

Karkat's blotched and pink-streaked face crosses his mind again and, fuck. Karkat had been so  _ pretty _ when he'd cried above him, weak-limbed and sobbing from pleasure. Seeing Karkat cry today was... He'll try to avoid  _ that _ ever happening again. It felt completely wrong. 

"Dude, are y’all okay?" 

Dirk starts as Dave pops his head in, and he's glad he's on his back and has his nether regions covered up. Can't hide his red-decorated nipples, but whatever. 

A small pause. "Uh, I think so. Got carried away." He can imagine how it must have sounded like for Dave, and winces. "We talked it out for now, uh. Sorry 'bout that, lil bro." 

Dave looks at him impassively for a moment, before nodding concededly. "Okay. Just sounded like y’all murdered each other, but if you're fine, you're fine." Still, he hangs out by the doorway, taking in Dirk's absolutely fucked-over form. A frown is only shown in his dimple, but at last he sighs and stands up straight. "Well, I'll put on the kettle. The breakfast is nice cold anyways." 

"You're perfect wife-material, lil dude." 

"I know you are but what am I." 

"Wow. Touché." 

They twitch a smile at each other, and Dave goes back in the kitchen. Karkat hadn't looked too bad from what he saw when he'd slunk into the bathroom.

Karkat never looked bad, ever, in Dave's humble opinion. 

Dirk facepalms gently as Dave goes away, giving off a small sigh. Damnit. 

With a slightly pained groan, he pulls the covers off himself, slinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks around for something baggy to wear when Karkat comes to get him. 

He can't quite believe it, but the fucker has probably left him too weak-legged to be able to move to the bathroom gracefully by himself. 

Dirk tries to get competitive about that, but finds he's out of gas. Okay, whatever. He'll bring his A-game back tomorrow. Probably. 

Man, he's been alone in the room for five minutes and he misses the guy. The fuck.

When Karkat enters the room again, he’s surprised to see Dirk dressed. He doesn’t let that stop him from his mission though, as he makes a b-line directly for his boyfriend and pulls him into a kiss.

He hums into it, suddenly feeling too good to worry about whether or not Dirk still feels bad. If he does, Karkat will make  _ sure  _ he feels good again soon. There are no other options. Sorry Dirk, you’re stuck with Karkat forever now.

When he finally pulls away, his arms are wrapped solidly around Dirk’s neck and his forehead stays pressed against the other’s. “I missed you,” he says, and wow, that sounds dumb and needy. Maybe that’s a good thing, though, to be arguably  _ lame  _ after he just threw Dirk’s vulnerability into the blender. More ammo for Dirk to retaliate with, if they ever need it.

Hopefully they won’t. But it’s an olive branch, of sorts.

After one more peck to the lips, Karkat unwraps himself from Dirk and takes his hand instead, to lead him toward the bathroom. “Hurry up, so I can kiss you some more in the bath tub.”

Well.  _ Dressed _ . Dirk only managed to put on a too-big t-shirt, and that's kind of it. Dirk is a little proud nonetheless, and  _ very _ relieved he didn't have to crawl around on the floor to find it. 

Though very surprised at the sudden attack-kiss it's  _ very _ good, so Dirk only hums back, hands coming up to lightly rest on Karkat's sides. 

Fuck, he missed Dirk, too...? That's so sappy... He nods against Karkat, kissing him an extra time in a silent answer, unable to keep himself from melting a little. 

He takes the offered hand, letting himself be pulled up from the bed; he wraps his other arm around Karkat's shoulders hastily as he feels his knees wobble, and laughs a little dryly. 

"Yeah, 'm up for smoochin'." He pecks Karkat's still-tinged cheeks, making the arm around Karkat more of a friendly gesture than the crutch it really is, walking with him to the bathroom with about half his weight against the troll's firm build. 

Swoon, he guesses. 

"Aw hell yeah, the only right temperature is  _ scalding _ ." He can feel it from the moisture of the bathroom, and he seems to perk right up at the thought of a nice, hot bath. He's easy like that.

"Help me outta my shirt again, bro." He leans against the sink a little, holding out the hem of his shirt for Karkat.

Karkat is fucking  _ delighted  _ when Dirk returns his affections. It would be stupid to think they’re done talking about the issue, but at least for now, they can take comfort in knowing that they’re still here for each other.

Karkat is so lucky.

He sees right through Dirk’s ploy at hugging him as they walk, and he takes pride in the fact that Dirk can’t  _ stand right.  _ As much smack as Dirk talks about him, for going all soft when Dirk eats him out, this is perfect. He can dish it just as well as he can take it, it seems. 

Dirk doesn’t need to know that Karkat has almost never  _ ’topped.’  _ It would probably only bruise Dirk’s ego even more. And it’s not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that… he  _ really  _ likes being paid attention to. And Dirk is really good at paying attention to him.

And then Dirk asks him to help him with his shirt, and he rolls his eyes. “Fuck. Is this how it’s going to be?” he asks. The question is clearly annoyed, but good natured. “You bottom one single time, and suddenly I have to baby you? Unbelievable. I thought I was done being your maid.”

Of course, he’s more than happy to help. It gives him an excuse to touch Dirk again, anyway. So he steps up to his boyfriend, backing him properly up against the sink, and takes the hem of the shirt in his hands. Openly, he watches Dirk’s body as he pulls it up, taking in the violent scratch marks, the pink skin. Up further and, fuck, his nipples look downright painful. Poor guy, maybe Karkat was too hard on him.

He leans down to kiss at Dirk’s chest as he lifts the shirt, careful to avoid irritated skin. He kisses up and up, following the shirt as it goes, until he meets Dirk’s lips again the the shirt hits the floor. At this point, it would probably be romantic for him to pick Dirk up and carry him the rest of the way to the bath and lie him down inside, but who is he trying to kid, he’s not that strong. It’s the thought that counts, though.

“Do you think you can make it to the tub, or do I have to help your sorry ass?” he asks.

Dirk snorts. He supposes he ought to feel insulted at Karkat's teasing, but it's just that; harmless teasing. And from the way he's currently obviously desperate to to cuddle up, it falls pretty damn flat. 

He's grateful. Karkat is probably equally aware how bruised his ego is. 

"Well, Karkat," he lays on his accent extra thick, "it just seemed to me like you were really enjoyin' bein' at my service." 

There's only glee when Karkat backs him up against the sink, relief that yeah, they're good, they're still... good. Bad communication can happen, and they can still be alright. 

He still expects Karkat to try to lap at his nipples, but he sighs out in cautious relief when he avoids them. How the fuck is he going to be able to wear a shirt later...? 

Mmm, lips on his. Very good. His arms naturally fall back onto Karkat's shoulders when his shirt hits the ground, and he hides a little pout when Karkat breaks it to talk. 

"Howsabout you join this sorry ass...?" He smirks a little, giving Karkat another kiss, then takes a small step towards the tub, arms around the troll's neck still so he has to follow. "Might hurt your back if you have to lean over the tub to smooch me, hmm...?" 

He gives Karkat's cheek a little lick, because there was a small smudge of blood there. It tastes salty. Yuck.

“That was always the plan…” Karkat says. He lets Dirk lead him back toward the tub, kissing him in between every short little step.

When his legs hit the side of the tub, he turns to help Dirk get in first. He lets Dirk keep holding onto him, without commenting on the fact that Dirk can’t do it himself. It’s actually so fucking perfect and hilarious and cute that Dirk can’t, and Karkat will keep helping him if only for the self satisfaction.

He’s grinning like an idiot the whole time Dirk is lowered into the water, and even still after he’s followed. He sits himself between Dirk’s legs, with his own legs settled on either side of Dirk’s body. He’s more or less in Dirk’s lap, and maybe it’s not the best position to get  _ clean  _ in, but he’ll be damned if he sits any further away.

His grin falters into a bit of a wince as he gives Dirk another once over. “I really fucked you up, did I?” he asks. There’s sympathy in his voice, though. It’s  _ got  _ to hurt to let the water touch those cuts. “I would say I’m sorry, but… you kind of asked for it.”

Tentatively, he reaches up to run the pad of a finger over a particularly painful set of puncture wounds. Maybe he should file his nails down a little bit… Make it a little less dangerous. He can still _ hurt  _ Dirk without the risk of bleeding him fucking dry. Jesus.

"Hmm.." Dirk pauses the kissing to slowly lower himself into the tub, (with the  _ slightest  _ help from Karkat) hissing softly as hot water washes against his scratches and other hurts. 

Yowch, you might say. 

It's a little better when Karkat practically slides into his lap, and he wraps his arms loosely around Karkat's middle, sighing out contently. 

When Karkat mentions his little (and not so little) battle-wounds, he just smirks; sure it hurts a bit, but damn if it wasn't worth it. Not to mention, it felt fucking _ amazing. _

Even now it feels pretty good, something to distract him from his own constant stream of thought. When Karkat feels at some of the damage, a small shiver runs up his spine. A slightly twisted part in him wants Karkat to dig his claw in, but then it's easily brushed away. Not really in the mood. 

"Hell yeah, I asked for it." His hand moves up and down Karkat's back slowly, marvelling at how smooth yet strong Karkat's skin can be. "That was like... One of the things I enjoyed. Wasn't lying about that."

He's definitely had partners who have done worse, but it's been years. It was only right after Bro that he really... 

Uh. Yeah, not gonna think about that. 

He gives Karkat another kiss to distract them both, lapping at his lips, asking for entrance, hands squeezing his sides almost comfortingly. Fuck, it feels good, sitting close like this. He's not sure this is pitch, but he finds that he'll... let Karkat lead for a while. He obviously doesn't know kismesissitude as well as he'd thought. 

"Feels good now, too." He murmurs it against Karkat's lips, slipping his eyes shut and exhaling in slight bliss. Heat does  _ wonders  _ to muscle-aches.

“Hm.” Karkat lets his eyes continue to roam over Dirk’s battered body. As bad as he looks now, he looks  _ so much better _ than he did when he came home from the studio. He’s never going to let Dirk get that bad again.

“I’m glad I finally got to return the favor,” he says, and his smile reaches all the way up to his eyes. He gives Dirk one more kiss before backing up just enough to make room for actual bathing. 

He tips Dirk’s head up by the chin, and then cups both hands in the water to pour over Dirk’s horribly un-styled hair. Between the sweating and the grabbing and everything else that happened, it wasn’t exactly up to Dirk’s usual standard. 

And now it’s wet so it doesn’t matter.

He uses his fingers to detangle it a little bit before going for the shampoo. He distracts himself with the task of rubbing it into Dirk’s hair as he tries to force himself to talk again.

“So… I’m glad that we’re both feeling better, but I don’t think we’re done talking yet,” he starts. “We’ve been talking a lot about what pitch means, and I think we might be miscommunicating somewhere. I think you have this image in your head of this perfect black relationship, and that you’re letting me down or something? But you’re not.”

“We’re  _ never  _ going to fit into a cookie cutter. First of all, you’re human, and that gives it a whole different twist right from the beginning. And I’m…”

He trails off for a second, not sure what he’s trying to say. He’s always been a little offset from the rest of troll society, and now that he’s embraced human culture so thoroughly, it’s only gotten worse.

“Unconventional?” he tries. “Like yes, I can be rough and I  _ do  _ have a more violent side, I guess, but it’s not… Uh… Necessary? I’m losing track of what I’m trying to say, fuck.”

He’s been massaging Dirk’s head for too long, the bubbles piling up and flopping down into the water behind Dirk. He cups another handful of water to start rinsing them away.

"Muh. You've been great before this too," Dirk says with a slight smirk, encouraged by Karkat's smile. He doesn't smile very often around him, it's more of a smirk or a baring of teeth. He likes Karkat's smile too. 

He lets Karkat tip his head back, eyes falling closed naturally. After how much hardship has happened to his once pristine hair, it's a relief to have it flat against his scalp. It probably looked like shit. 

Dirk hopes Dave doesn't remember that. 

Karkat's hands in his hair and on his scalp feels so nice, he's lulled into silence as Karkat talks; it softens the blow a little, makes it better that they're not just  _ talking it out _ . 

With a soft hum, he concedes. "I've been researching troll romance, I guess." It's a start, and his shoulders slump a little before continuing. "And I saw how these trolls just went  _ crazy _ , and I thought to myself, has Karkat  _ ever _ done that...?"

Dirk's hands fidget, but he strokes at Karkat instead, returning the favour somewhat. 

"And, y'know, I... like pain, so I thought, well, fucking double bonus, Karkat gets to express his inner pitch, 'n I get to see that and... experience that, I guess. I thought it was. Normal for trolls I guess, and... Well, I dunno about if you're conventional or not, I just thought it was like, a healthy outlet or whatever?" 

God, here he goes, rambling again. No wonder Jake got sick of it. 

"I just mean, yeah, maybe I thought you were going too easy on me, and maybe this was too... sweet, or whatever, I don't actually know now that we're here, just. I didn't want you to underestimate  _ me _ either...? And... Fuck." And he hasn't bottomed in so long. He was feeling vulnerable. He wanted to even out the odds, show Karkat that even when he's soft for him, he won't be  _ weak _ . 

It's a slow realization, seeing that some of the things he's been thinking about... about still like, vulnerability or whatever, it isn't really quite as black and white as he'd always presumed.

"Guess we... Have to... maybe figure it out..." uuuh, "at our pace... Since we're kinda outside the norm. I'll... If there's... If I wonder about shit, I mean, then. Yeah, I can prolly hit you up, I guess...?" 

He ponders for a moment. "There's gotta be forums for human and troll relationships. I think I read through a couple, but... I mean, if we can get some intel from someone more experienced...?" Of course he goes into research-mode, even now hesitant to dive into question-mode on Karkat. 

"And we don't have to make your... violence, I guess...? Come out at the most inopportune time when I can't defend myself, that was beyond stupid on my part. I'm still physically stronger than you, you could get some aggression out if we sparred for example... I wonder how that would work in regards to a pitch relationship-..." 

The more he talks, the lower his voice gets, falling into a mumble that Dave also has when he starts free-style rapping.

“Oh my god, stop,” Karkat says. With Dirk’s hair now clean, he moves one hand to cover up Dirk’s muttering mouth. “That’s exactly what I was just talking about. We don’t need to research it, or ‘get intel’ or whatever the fuck else you just said. We can just let it happen naturally. It doesn’t have to fit into a box.”

He lets his hand slide away from Dirk’s mouth, down his chest again, where it just sits. “We’re allowed to be as mean or as soft as we want. Just because you don’t see pitch cuddling online, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Especially since we don’t have an auspistice, we have to work out our differences on our own. We  _ need  _ to have these soft moments, or we would never last.”

He’s been staring at his own hand on Dirk’s chest, but now he turns his eyes up on Dirk’s. The eye contact is heavy, but he wants to make sure Dirk  _ gets it.  _ “And I don’t know about you, but I kind of want us to last. You’re awful and annoying and intolerable, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t hate you so much. We don’t have to prove anything to anyone, it’s  _ our  _ relationship.”

Dirk makes a slightly affronted sound as his mumbling get interrupted, but he quiets down easily enough. 

Well... Of course Dirk knows that. They don't have to fit in a box, he just has to make sure that what they're doing is at least-... 

Oh. At least... Normal. Which, they're probably not. 

Dilemma. 

"I just want..." He doesn't need for it to be normal; hell, he'd hardly call himself part of the norm. It's not that. He thinks, trying to look what's hidden under that excuse, pulling Karkat a little closer again. His brows furrow a little. 

He wants to look down at Karkat's hand, avoid that intense gaze, but... Well, what kinda boyfriend would he be if he did? 

Dirk holds Karkat's gaze, shrugging his shoulders a little; he's a little at a loss of words now. "I just want to not fuck up. I want to be prepared.  _ Because _ I want to make this last, 'course I want it to." He  _ was _ a little surprised at Karkat's confession, having to tell himself that Karkat saying that stuff is a  _ good _ thing, cause they're pitch. It's in his tone. He wouldn't know what to do without him. 

Fuck. Always the romantic, isn't he. 

"... " He sighs out, clunking their foreheads together a little, giving him a quick kiss. "But I guess you're right, for once. Finding advice to a relationship that is not previously well documented will just lead to more questions and misunderstandings based on the differences in our individual thought-processes and patterns..." 

He smiles, giving Karkat a longer kiss. "Guess I'll just have to research  _ us _ , Karkat Vantas, make sure I know what makes us tick. That sound better...?"

Hearing his name come out of Dirk’s mouth like that is… hard to describe. It’s so warm, so comforting. Really seals in the idea that they’re going to be  _ fine.  _ He melts into the kiss, until Dirk finally pulls away.

“Sounds a lot better,” he agrees. He still thinks Dirk is taking it a little too seriously, but… well, if Dirk weren’t always so much of a horribly annoying intellect, Karkat never would have even noticed him. All the more for him to hate.

His mind wanders, playing over all the events from the last 24 hours in his mind. From the second Karkat had Dirk tied down, Dirk was still so cocky. But the moment he broke out the sounding rods… Dirk lost it. Dirk looked wrecked before Karkat ever touched him. Aroused and terrified all at the same time.

“So…” he starts. “The rods…” Dirk is still too close for him to look back up and make eye contact, so his eyes linger on Dirk’s lips. “Trolls don’t have anything like that. How did you… Why…?” He can’t find the right words to ask. “And what part of the… hurt… do you like? What’s good for you, and what’s too far?”

He won’t admit that he had no idea. But it would be good for him to figure it out before they try again. Maybe he can even pull a few new ideas out of Dirk.

Dirk draws a surprised breath in, freezing up just a tad. Oh, they're... Talking about  _ that _ now...? 

"Ah..." He briefly tries to catch Karkat's eyes, but realizes the same as Karkat did and looks down to Karkat's mouth as well, lowering his eyelids, rubbing his own lips together briefly. 

Blushes. 

Shit.

"I mean... Fuck. I don't... I haven't-..." Fuuuuuck. 

He takes a calming breath holding Karkat a little firmer. For support, possibly. 

"It's... not something I've shared with previous partners." Back to overly polite talk, but it's better than shutting up. "It's more of a... personal hobby, of sorts. I read about it online, and the complexity of it was-... intriguing. I read about how it would stimulate the prostate gland," who the fuck even calls it a prostate gland, "and I thought that was-... fascinating. I also. Um." 

Dirk might never have been this flustered in his entire life. There's never been a sexual thing to be hidden away that got exposed, he didn't have a mom who found his porn-mags. 

"The... It's. The cleanliness of it, too, I mean... Is a good part." Man, he's just laying it all out there, this is  _ so _ embarrassing. "There's a ritual to it that calms me, I suppose-... And it needs to be done correctly." 

Here goes, this part is a little easier. "And, it gets a little hard, ha, to become erect, and the pain is-... Stimulating. It's not very painful, or, it's... Well, I don't mind, you know. It's like a... cycle between the two, between..." He motions his hand uselessly behind Karkat's back. 

"And. The thought of. It's a delicate process. And thinking someone might..." Okay, that's as far as his pride is willing to go it seems. 

"The third rod was about my limit, I've only tried the fourth one a couple times. As a masochist, the limit is dubious, but personally a little more wouldn't have... been minded."

.... 

"Additional questions...?"

Oh wow, Dirk is  _ embarrassed.  _ Karkat has probably never heard him this flustered before. When he asked what ‘too far’ was, he had meant with his nails and his teeth. The pain part of it. But the way Dirk rambles and the pink in his cheeks tells Karkat that the sounding was clearly Dirk’s favorite part.

He wants to  _ tease  _ Dirk, in a very light hearted way, but he’s not sure if he should. He doesn’t want to close Dirk off again. He’s glad Dirk is even telling him this now.

So, carefully, he says, “You wanted  _ more?  _ The way you melted under me, I figured I hit the nail pretty well on the head. It’s good to know that I didn’t push too hard, though…”

He turns his head up to press a kiss between Dirk’s eyes. And maybe it’s a little bit patronizing, but he hopes that Dirk knows that he means well at this point.

He files away the rest of what Dirk said for future reference. When he had been doing his research, he had read about many different reasons for why people liked doing it. Of course Dirk’s would be unique, too. The  _ cleanliness  _ gets him off, too? Something to dive into deeper later on… Must be a perfectionist thing?

Who knows.

“What about the rest of it?” he asks, his lips still lingering on Dirk’s skin. “How will I know if it hurts too much? You were starting to tell me, toward the end, that it was too much… but now you’re saying that it wasn’t.”

He gets that people can say things they don’t mean when they’re in the heat of the moment. He just did it himself, a little while ago-- but also when he feels too good, when Dirk is working him over  _ just right.  _ He could easily say that it’s too much, but it’s never enough. How is that something that they can communicate clearly?

' _ The way you melted under me _ ' ... Dirk's face darkens further, and he sighs a little in embarrassment, accepting the patronizing kiss silently. Damnit, he's so fucking transparent. 

He can't say... He can't say he hates this though. It doesn't hurt so much, when they're like this. It's more... Flustering. 

To tell Karkat it's okay, he doesn't defend himself from it. 

"If it-... oh my god. We are such a fucking  _ mess _ ..." He chuckles a little, tries to stifle it, then chuckles some more; he swears to  _ God _ . 

"I've been joking around about safe, sane and consensual, but for fucks  _ sake _ Karkat--" he leans back a little when his frame shakes so much their faces rub weird against each other. He gives Karkat a deep kiss before leaning back and looking Karkat in the eye. 

"It's called a safe-word. Or a safe-gesture, if your mouth is too busy... Have you heard about it...?" He can't help the slightly condescending tone, but it's just  _ too great _ . It's mostly teasing though, and asking. 

Maybe trolls don't have safe-words...? 

He strokes his hands up and down Karkat's sides, fingers feeling at his grub-scars.

“Uh…” Karkat starts. Dirk makes it sound obvious, but it’s not something Karkat has ever needed a word for. He runs a wet hand through his own hair and looks away, trying not to look like such an idiot.

He can take a pretty good guess at what a safe-word is. What it sounds like is a word reserved exclusively for a serious purpose. Maybe to make them stop whatever they’re doing, if it gets bad.

Maybe they needed that this morning.

To clarify, though, he clears his throat and asks, “Why don’t you refresh my memory…”

He feels stupid asking, with the way Dirk is eyeing him. Maybe this is karma, for all the times he made Dirk blush in the past day. He knew it was too good to be true, for him to stay on top like this. Dirk was bound to overpower him again eventually.

To keep his hands busy and to distract himself from being embarrassed, he reaches for the shampoo again, to start working on his own hair.

Oh no. Karkat  _ doesn't know _ . Don't laugh, Dirk, it's not really that funny-... 

He manages to keep it to some more chuckling. He easily enough take over cleaning duty, pushing Karkat's hands out of his own hair. Dave always said he liked it when Dirk washed his hair, he's got some pro massaging skills. 

"Sorry, just-... wow, you managed to research  _ sounding _ , but didn't stumble over BDSM or safe-word...? Only you, Kitten..." 

He pushes Karkat's fringe back getting mixing the suds in thoroughly. "So, to _ refresh your memory..." _ He squeezes at Karkat's horns a little, tilting his head back. 

"A safeword is a code word or series of code words that are sometimes used in BDSM for either partner to unambiguously communicate their physical or emotional state to the other, typically when approaching, or crossing, a physical, emotional, or moral boundary." He recites it dutifully, pushing Karkat's foamy hair back, enjoying how slick and easy his hair folds back. 

"BDSM standing for bondage, discipline, dominance and submission, or the equivalents." He leans in and gives his boyfriend a soft kiss, then another one, still smiling unabashedly. 

"It's okay if you didn't know, I guess it would be more necessary for a human than for a troll... Classically, the safeword would be in tiers like a traffic-light; red for complete stop, orange for slow down, green for go." He murmurs it, letting Karkat avoid eye contact by being so close to him that their lips brush when he talks. 

"Both the submissive and the dominant can tap out, and there are no bad feelings for doing so. It's  _ safe _ , in every sense of it... That make sense...?" Now he's just enjoying giving Karkat the scalp-massage, beyond relieved to have  _ something _ good to contribute to their relationship.

Karkat leans into Dirk’s touch. He feels like it’s been  _ so long _ since Dirk touched him, and it feels so good. His eyes fall shut, and it’s hard to focus on the very long winded explanation Dirk is giving him.

The pressure on his horns makes him let out a little whimper. It makes him  _ soft  _ and pliant. He’s surprised that Dirk hasn’t taken more advantage of how sensitive they can be. When Dirk was kissing them earlier in the morning, he just about could have died.

But then again, maybe Dirk doesn’t  _ know. _ Karkat didn’t know about any of this human shit that Dirk is saying to him. Trolls never needed any words to describe this type of relationship, so he didn’t even think to look it up. It’s just… black.

“It makes sense,” he agrees, but his voice is a little tighter now. It’s hard to keep his thoughts in line when Dirk’s hands are finally on him again like this. It’s not necessarily a sexual touch, per se, but it’s  _ something.  _ It’s got that possessive vibe to it, that Dirk always seems to have, like Karkat is only there for Dirk to stand over. 

It’s hard to place, exactly, but it’s like… Karkat is filled with the urge to just  _ let  _ Dirk do whatever he wants. It’s stupid, no one has ever had that effect on him. It makes him  _ mad. _

“Colors. Got it,” he grinds out, as the irritation bubbles up in him. He’s still calm, but there’s that itch under his skin that just screams about how pitch he is for Dirk. He’ll learn all about human BDSM and safe-words and whatever else Dirk wants him to learn, as long as it means they can go at it without restraint again.

Didn’t Dirk mention actually fighting him a while ago? Like sparring? That might be fun, actually.

Dirk makes a pleased sound, grabbing onto Karkat's horns again; oho? That seemed to make Karkat all jello-like. How convenient. 

He digs his thumbs gently into the beginnings of Karkat's hornbeds, murmuring lovingly to him, "How about a practical demonstration,  _ baby _ ..." he tugs Karkat's head into the right position, laying a very soft kiss to his lips. He wasn't joking when he said he could kiss Karkat's plush lips for hours. 

"What's your colour right now...?" He kisses Karkat's chin, under it, towards his neck. 

It's not  _ completely _ sexual, just making a point. 

If he finds it a little arousing, well, Karkat got to have  _ his _ fun, didn't he..

The tug on Karkat’s head, his hair, his  _ horns, _ makes him let out another little noise.

Okay, Karkat just decided that he  _ hates _ the color system. He’s fine right now, there’s absolutely no reason for him to go for orange or red, but saying green feels like… like he’s admitting to being into it.

Not that he’s  _ not  _ into it, it’s just that… He’s made quite a habit of making things hard for Dirk, and he can’t just not say  _ anything,  _ but admitting that he likes it right off the bat like this is…

A clever move, on Dirk’s part. Bastard.

“...green,” he grinds out, his teeth clenched together. When Dirk had knocked his hands away, he settled them comfortably around Dirk’s sides, and now they’re tense. His fingers dig just so slightly into skin, threatening with his nails. His legs wrap tighter around Dirk’s waist as well.

“I think my hair is fucking clean now,” he warns. “Don’t be trying to push my buttons when you can barely stand on your own. I know you need a break, after everything you took. Don’t fucking start with me.”

"Mh-.." Dirk just smirks and smoothes his hands over the back of Karkat's head, down his neck and to his shoulders. 

"Yeah, maybe you're right... I'll get back to my demonstration later..." He leans over Karkat a little to grab onto the hose of the showerhead, managing to coax it down with a practiced little frick of his wrist. 

"Tilt your head back, kittycat, don't want soap to get into those gorgeous reds." He unplugs the tub, turns on the showerhead, and rinses at Karkat's hair properly; honestly, they should just take a shower, but meh; if Karkat's happy... 

He smoothes a hand over Karkat's head in sure strokes, squeezing out water and suds from his hair before wetting it again, making sure all of the soap is gone. 

"Conditioner..?"

The admission, however subtle, that Dirk is too tired to get sexual again is another soothing balm over the wound from this morning. If he can still admit to having weaknesses, then Karkat is still in the clear.

He does as he’s told, tilting his head back and letting water wash over him. Dirk’s hands on him are still distracting, but-- is that the water draining that he can hear? Are they done already?

“Do I look like I use conditioner? Fuck off about my _ gorgeous eyes,  _ you kissass. I’m not  _ pretty.  _ You just want me to get all soft again, so I’ll forget about how good you looked taking my bulge.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, he squeezes Dirk threateningly with his hands.

“Trying to knock me down already? Trying to take charge back for yourself?”

Oh-... Damn,  _ someone _ is getting feisty.

Dirk utters a small 'hngh' as Karkat's hands tighten on him, and he bites down on his lip briefly. Karkat really just sees right through him, huh...

"Wow, so sorry for complimenting my boyfriend," he snarks, sounding slightly abashed, "though honestly, isn't me in charge what you actually like the most, hmm...?" He can't help but jab, can't help but challenge Karkat a little for that control. 

He knows that right now, Karkat is very much so, and he seemed to be enjoying that just  _ fine _ . But he doesn't want to give up by a long shot. If Karkat wants to lead he should  _ show _ it, work for it.

Never mind that he's wanted to have Karkat's mouth on his dick for so long... 

Speaking of, he puts a small damper on his own pitch fire, slowing down. Fuck, it's so  _ easy _ getting riled up with the troll. 

"But honestly, it felt... holy shit, taking your bulge was  _ really _ strange. Like-" he's quick to reassure, "not  _ bad _ at all, just. Wow, that thing just goes to town, doesn't it..." 

He moves his hand up to thumb at one of Karkat's horns, letting him move his head freely but liking how Karkat's shoulders automatically lower with the soft press of the hornbeds against hard keratin.

“Uh--”  _ Damnit,  _ Dirk is going to exploit the fuck out of his horns now, isn’t he? Maybe he really didn’t know before. It’s  _ so distracting.  _ “Y-yeah, it kind of has a mind of its own.”

He sucks in a short breath to collect himself. Just ignore it, it’s totally fine.

He opens his eyes again to force himself out of the trance and looks at Dirk. “Human dick was weird at first, too,” he says. He doesn’t mention that Dirk’s wasn’t the first one he’s had. “It’s just…  _ there.  _ It just sits there. And it’s… big??? Kind of too big. It used to hurt a little bit, until I got used to it. And all the  _ thrusting.  _ It just rams right up into where it’s too narrow, over and over, and the  _ stretch  _ is--”

Oh wow, he’s talking too much. He just can’t  _ focus  _ with Dirk’s hands in his hair like that.

“Hold on, wait. Was that your first time taking a bulge?” he asks. He feels guilty all over again that it was so  _ bad.  _ If that was Dirk’s first time, what a fucking awful first time to have. He’ll definitely have to make it up to Dirk later on, if that’s the case…

Dirk only hums in interest as Karkat starts rambling about what a size-queen he is, smirking. Wow, how has he  _ not _ taken advantage of Karkat's horns...? He's probably read like a million times that horns are like, not exactly an erogenous zone, but... Yeah, sensitive, calming. 

It's most likely because Dirk was so focused on being pitch, he put horn-fondling in the 'pale' category. Dirk swiftly copies and pastes it to all the quadrants, setting the pitch one on high priority.

Fuck yeah, Karkat loves his big dick in his tight alien pussy. He's gonna use that. Tell him how much he likes how tight he gets deep inside. He's making a manuscript in his head already, that shit is going to be  _ fire _ . 

He's about to put his hand on the other's horn when Karkat outs him as a bulge-virgin, and he promptly gives Karkat's horns a good squeeze. Hopefully, what he says now will be super-forgotten. 

"Uhh... Yeah, I guess. I've been with a couple trolls, but honestly it was just oral." 

To further initiate his 'make-Karkat-forget-this' mission, he pulls Karkat by the horns into another kiss, chaste enough to not get hot, but good enough that they're just slightly out of breath after. 

"..." He grins, letting go of Karkat's horns and cupping his jaw. "It's good to know you love my huge dick, though. Despite the weirdness."

Karkat growls and swats Dirk’s hands away. “It’s not  _ your  _ dick that’s huge, it’s  _ all dicks.  _ Bastard.” He holds both Dirk’s hands in his, but it’s more of a form of restraint than something sweet as he glares at Dirk.

The water is nearly all the way drained at this point, and he’s getting worked up enough at this point to be hungry. They didn’t even wash anything but their hair, of course, because he can never get anything done with Dirk’s stupid ass around.

“Are we done in here? You’re getting on my fucking nerves and I’m hungry. We can talk about your weird fetish for stuffing your mouth full of nook and bulge later.

Even if he says it like it’s a bad thing, he… fucking loves Dirk’s mouth on him. The guy is  _ good  _ at it. Probably because he’s had far too much practice. Disgusting.

Dirk swings their hands together as if it  _ is _ something romantic, a clever little smirk on his lips. 

"Yeah, we rinse off and-" he squints at Karkat's offhand comment, squeezing Karkat's hands, "Oi." 

He leans in, looking offended, until he gives Karkat's nose a little nip. 

"Help me up, servant. I'm a hair's breadth away from making you serve me breakfast in bed for your audacity." He motions for Karkat to stand, then groans as Karkat pulls him up. 

He keeps one of their hands connected, holding the showerhead, spraying Karkat up and down before giving him a quick little splash to the face, grinning. Aahh. 

Karkat is so much fun. 

He's about to lean over the tub to grab a towel, but his knees  _ fucking _ give out, making him have to quickly change his course and grab onto Karkat quickly so he won't smash his head into anything unfortunate. 

"---holy shit." he chuckles out a weak laugh, gaining his footing again. He might really need sustenance and a day's rest.

Karkat is ready to pick another fight, with a face full of water, but then Dirk is _ falling _ and he stops short to catch the guy. Jesus fucking christ, he can’t even tell if Dirk is exaggerating to make him feel bad, or if he was really this hard on him. Dirk has fucked him pretty boneless before, but not  _ this  _ boneless. Maybe Karkat doesn’t know his own strength.

He helps Dirk the rest of the way out of the tub and gives him a skeptical look. He grabs them each a towel and quickly dries himself off. “Wait here,” he says. “I’ll go grab us some clean clothes, because you’re useless.”

He heads back to Dirk’s room, and… he doesn’t have any of his own clean clothes here. So he picks some of Dirk’s to dress in. He grabs an extra set and brings it back to the bathroom for Dirk to put on. He pointedly ignores any remarks about how cute he is, or about  _ ’boyfriend hoodies,’  _ whatever the fuck that means. He didn’t even take one of Dirk’s hoodies.

Dave is begrudgingly much more understanding than he should be when they finally make it out to the dining room. He’s probably annoyed, even if he won’t say it. Honestly, Karkat should have been in more of a hurry, he maybe sorta forgot that he has to be to work today.

He eats quickly, gives each of them a kiss goodbye, and then he’s gone.


	9. Dirk/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Dave get their pale on.

Dave drums his fingers against the table as he silently gives Dirk a _look._ He doesn’t have his shades on, so his face clearly reads _what the fuck, bro?_

As another Strider who has not put his shades on, Dirk’s eyes are on the front door for a long while before he locks eyes with Dave. 

A small fluster paints his cheeks, but he remains calm. He can moon a little over his kismesis if he wants to, damn. Give him some privacy, dude, he needs to sort some ironic feelings or whatever... 

Dirk doesn't know why he's feeling melancholic right now, but he is more than ready to bury it under a shitload of sibling-banter.

"What." 

He has an inkling. Maybe his bro fucking his boyfriend, hearing them yell at each other, hear it go wrong and escalating into something undesirable, to the point where _Dave's boyfriend starts crying_. Ugly crying at that. 

Maybe seeing Dirk all torn up and fucked out. Maybe seeing Karkat help him into a chair, Dave himself helping him back into the chair he's currently in after saying bye to Karkat. 

Suddenly, Dirk is very glad that he and Karkat parted on good terms, because holy shit, having this talk with Dave and knowing Karkat is somewhere crying? No fucking thank you.

“Nothing,” Dave says simply, looking away from Dirk like it’s none of his business.

A beat passes before he turns his eyes back on Dirk, sideways. “Just glad y’all are good. Sounded pretty ugly.”

He should probably be more embarrassed to admit that he was listening, but the door _was_ wide open, and they _were_ being super loud. Not that he left the door open on purpose or anything. Not that he was trying to listen or anything.

Back on track, Dave.

He stands from the table and moves to put the dishes in the sink. Breakfast was a disaster, and that’s what he gets for trying to make it on his own, he guesses. The food itself wasn’t _that_ bad, but it was cold as fuck by the time Karkat and Dirk made it out to eat. He should really just let Karkat do it, what a disappointment.

When he turns back toward Dirk, he sighs. “Never thought _you_ would be the one coming out here limping. Did you lose a bet or something?” he asks. He offers Dirk a hand, to help him up so they can head into the living room.

Dirk tries to feel bashful from knowing Dave was listening, but honestly it wasn't much of a secret- and he doesn't think he's actually wired to feel shame from that kind of thing. 

Maybe from his own moans. In the end he was quiet though- he doesn't regret that at all. 

Dirk jumps a little as Dave unabashedly asks him why he bottomed, and he blinks up him, a small furrow twitching between his brow. Without answering quite yet, he grabs Dave's arm, hoisting himself up carefully, strangling a small hiss; he kind of completely fucking forgot to use antiseptic on his wounds and bandage them up...? 

He wonders if Karkat would have done it, had he had the time. 

As they walk their way over to the couch, an arm slung over Dave's shoulder, he murmurs, "Actually, yeah. Lost in Mario Cart." 

Isn't that fucking hilarious? All that, stemming from one loss of that stupid fucking game. He is going to analyse that game to pieces. 

"But yeah, it... We talked it out, but. Yeah." He closes his eyes as they both lower him onto the couch, and he sighs out, a small twitch as his side brushes the arm of the couch. 

"Sorry you had to hear that. It wasn't cool." Did he say that already? He absentmindedly soothes at his own chest, wondering about the ache there.

Dave raises an eyebrow at the apology. Dirk apologizing means that there’s something to apologize _for._

Karkat had seemed more or less fine. No physical damage, at least, and he was talking like everything was fine.

Dirk, on the other hand, looks like he’s been sent through a wood chipper. That should lead Dave to believe that _Karkat_ is the one who should be apologizing, but maybe Dirk did something to push Karkat into hurting him?

Who really fucking knows. Those two are both stupid.

Stupid and cute.

At the very least, whatever happened, Karkat took care of Dirk before he left. Or started to. He got Dirk clean, even if he didn’t get around to actual bandages. Maybe Dave should help.

Instead of settling in beside Dirk, he wordlessly makes a detour back to the bathroom. He gets down under the sink to find their hefty first aid kit (you can never be too prepared when you’re regularly playing around with swords). He brings it back to the couch and sits beside Dirk, with the kit on the coffee table.

Without asking, he tugs up Dirk’s shirt to see the extent of the damage. Damn, Karkat, what the fuck. Dave has never been more glad to be the one in the red quadrant.

“Your hair is down,” he finally says, breaking the self-imposed silence. It makes him feel some type of way to see Dirk being so… unlike himself. So clearly and openly vulnerable. No cold mask. No shades. No gel, or whatever the fuck he puts in his hair.

It’s just… Dirk. Needing help.

Dave can help.

He pulls some wound wash and some cotton from the kit, and sets several types of bandaging out on the table before soaking a piece of cotton in the wash. He presses it to a set of angry looking scratch marks.

Cold seizes him when Dave walks away. Fucking _shit._ He just fucked everything up and- oh he's back, he was just getting the first aid kit. 

Wow, was he about to have a fucking heart attack? Undoubtedly. 

The relief is short-lived when Dave casually tugs his shirt up, taking in the damage. He manages a croaked, wordless protest, hands up as if to tug his shirt back down. The shirt chafed ruthlessly against his nipples, and the pain of it burns brightly. 

"M-" his poor, slow brain feels like he's being a little bombarded with questions and feelings and sensations, and he brings one hand further up to rake his fringe back self-consciously. 

"Yeah." He ends up murmuring, not sure what else to add to that. 

He lists what needs to be done in his head according to what he feels stinging and burning on his chest. 

Nipples, the clean, red line slicing nearly through them and down quite a bit. Puncture marks and slightly bruised skin at his hips, scratch marks on his stomach... A pretty damned deep bite, enough to have broken skin and then some. 

"... --" he hisses as Dave presses something cool yet burning onto a set of the scratches, though he only twitches a little. "Mm. You don't have to..." the words die in his mouth though- it's not that he _doesn't_ want Dave to.. 

To? Take care of him? Fuck, he doesn't want to think of it like that, he's supposed to take care of _Dave._

... 

Ugh. He's... Too tired. Too tired to argue. He just wants... This. 

Embarrassed, he lowers his gaze, grabbing onto his own shirt and gingerly pulling it off for him. 

Easier to work with, at least.

“I know I don’t have to,” Dave says. He’s just about finished cleaning the first set of wounds when Dirk pulls his shirt off. Dave’s eyes automatically follow the garment, and the first thing he sees is they very unfortunate state of Dirk’s nipples.

“Oh--” he starts, but then he sees the _bite_ and he says, “Yikes.”

He can’t take his eyes off it. His hands stop moving for a moment, too stunned to remember to keep cleaning. It’s not that he hasn’t seen worse,. He’s seen Dirk every kind of mangled and fucked up. But knowing that it was Karkat that did this? In the bedroom, of all places?

“Yikes,” he repeats, and then turns his eyes back down to his work. “I’ve let Karkat have his way with me plenty of times, y’know, but I never walked away with anything like _that._ Must have been some scuffle.

Again, like he wasn’t fucking listening. He couldn’t hear much from the night before, but this morning sounded pretty… bad. It seemed like Dirk and Karkat were on good terms when Karkat left, but. Yeah. It was probably uglier than Dave wants to know about.

He sets his cotton down and reaches for some gauze. _Somehow,_ none of these wounds are still bleeding, which is good. But they’re all too big for a simple bandaid. Would it be overkill to wrap dressings around Dirk’s whole torso?

Meh. He’s doing it.

Tentatively, he asks, “Are you, like… okay?” He doesn’t mean Dirk’s body. Again, he’s seen Dirk through worse. But he leaves the question vague, so Dirk won’t feel pressured into talking about how he feels. He knows better than to have feelings on main, if he wants to get anything out of his brother.

Dirk can see what Dave is doing, of course; he most-times could. Dave is letting him choose what to tell him or not, digging as gently as he knows how to. 

It's kind of... nice. Sweet anyway, to have Dave worrying about him. He probably should be more worried about Karkat, but he can't actually tend to Karkat if he's not here... 

"Oh, this isn't from _that_..." He winces a little as Dave pokes something especially sore. "Uh, most of it, anyway..." 

He lets the silence hang, and he's glad Dave lets it, too. He worries about what to tell him, what will make Dave sad or disappointed. 

Hah. Maybe _that_ train has left, for all he knows. 

Dirk shakes that thought off, annoyed with himself. Determined to not start feeling all guilty and bad for himself, he decides to push himself a little further, if only for Dave to get some peace of mind. 

With a short little breath through his nose, Dirk lays his metaphorical cards down. "I got offended ‘cause Karkat called me weak after yesterday, and I pushed him too hard. Made'im cry. He didn't even mean it like that, but..." he shrugs a little; he probably did. But he'll give Karkat the benefit of the doubt. 

"I dunno."

Dave is definitely missing some key details to this story. What exactly happened yesterday? He breaks down what he _does_ know, from Dirk’s short confession. Dirk let his walls down. Karkat said something he shouldn’t have. Dirk pushed back, like he is known to do. Made Karkat _cry._

He gives Dirk a mixed look, unsure if he should be mad about that or not. Karkat is his boyfriend, but Dirk is also his brother, and it sounds like they were both hurt.

But, most importantly, he knows one more thing. Dirk’s walls are _still down._ He wouldn’t be telling Dave _anything_ if they weren’t. So maybe whatever happened wasn’t all bad. Like, obviously it was bad, but not _all bad._

“...So,” he starts. He doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to say. He’s not used to Dirk actually letting him help. “You obviously worked it out, since you weren’t fighting when he left. But you don’t know if you’re okay or not.”

His hands are moving on auto-pilot. He nudges Dirk’s far side, to get him to sit up away from the couch, so he can wrap the bandage around him. It leaves them sitting a little too close, but it’s a wonderful excuse not to make eye contact. He’s not sure if that’s just for Dirk’s benefit, or his own.

“What are you missing?” he asks. “What would make it okay?”

"..." Dirk watches as Dave gets him all wrapped up in bandages, approving of his skill- his heart aches, which probably means he's not completely fine right now, but he doesn't even know what it is. 

"Dunno." It comes out soft. Without properly consulting his brain, his head leans onto Dave's shoulder. When did he get so fucking tall, damn. 

"Maybe I..." He thinks, looking back on the past couple days. "I'm still sore. From what Karkat said." His shoulders hike up a little, and he knows from the way the ache throbs that he's somewhat right. "Or. Not really what he said at all, just. Got me fuckin' shook, I s'pose." 

Realizing he's literally spilling his guts here, he sits up and clears his throat, though he can't move too far away from Dave still wrapping him up. 

Still avoids eye contact like the plague though. 

"So yeah. Just butthurt, it'll pass. Nothin' MLP and a tub'a ice-cream can't fix." He twitches a smile- it feels a little forced.

_Just butthurt,_ sure, Dave thinks. So maybe what Dirk needs is just… time. And, obviously a fucking hug. The way Dirk leans on him is laced with need, and just… something sore.

Even more sore than the torn up skin on his body.

“I’ll watch your stupid pony show with you, if you want,” he offers. He finishes wrapping Dirk, and puts a hand to his chest to gently push him back against the couch again. The only thing left is Dirk’s neck. And… whatever might be hidden in his pants. Dirk didn’t take his pants off, though, so maybe it’s safe to assume his legs are fine. And… everything else is fine.

He wets a new piece of cotton and tilts Dirk’s head to the side, exposing his neck. He presses the cotton to the bite, and… wow, it looks bad. He’s a little shocked that Karkat is even capable of such a thing. Sure, the troll is loud and angry, but he’s not… _violent._

“If you want ice cream, though, we don’t have any. You’ll have to door dash it.”

"'s not stupid and you know it," is all Dirk answers as Dave pushes him back against the couch. He tilts his head to the side with ease when Dave's hand moves it, so Dave can get a better look. It's a trusting gesture, but he can't imagine _not_ trusting Dave. 

Dave is just too good. 

"Naah, it's okay, I ain't even hungerin' that bad for ice-cream. It was metaphorical. The ice-cream, not the MLP. That shit was for realsies." 

He flinches and makes a strangled, audible little yelp as the cotton is pressed against his purple/black, swollen flesh. 

" _Shit_ , Karkat, you bite like a fucking shark." There's a smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth though, and the hurt of it sends tingles down his spine. He sighs, forcing himself to relax. 

"But yeah, if you wanna hang, I'd be down." He says it in a nonchalant way, but he's anything but. He's been trying to make Dave watch with him for a long time.

Dave doesn’t miss the way the pressure makes Dirk flinch. Or the way it makes him… shiver.

Images of Dirk begging to be hurt flash through his mind, and it makes his cheeks warm. He shuts the train of thought down _immediately_ and sits back just sightly, clearing his throat nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything else going on, so…” He tries to make it sound like it’s casual, like he doesn’t just _want_ to hang out with Dirk. But he knows that Dirk wants him, and he knows that Dirk knows that he wants it, and really. There’s no hiding for either of them from each other, so the game is pointless. But they play it anyway, because it feels right.

Gently, so he won’t have to watch Dirk _react_ again, he lays a square of gauze over the bite and tapes it down. When he’s finished, he shoves the shirt back into Dirk’s hands to make him put it back on.

He doesn’t watch Dirk dress himself, instead choosing to busy himself with grabbing the xbox controller and turning on the TV. He pulls his legs up onto the couch and lets his shoulder touch Dirk’s as he settles in. “Here we fucking go, I guess.”

Dirk enjoys the little spiel they're doing. The game of 'I totally don't care but I do care and we both know it'. He just nods sagely, slight relief in him when all his hurts are covered up. Sure, it felt fucking fantastic getting them, and he's not suffering right about now either, but.. Open wounds are worrisome. 

Not worrisome enough that he'd wrap them up himself, but worrisome. 

Gingerly, gently, me manages to thread back on the t-shirt, eyes following Dave lazily as he gets them both ready to watch a _really good show_. He leans his shoulder back against Dave's when they brush together, the motion grounding. 

As the extremely familiar intro plays, Dirk visibly softens up some more. He's not sure why, but no matter _how_ many times he watches this show, it's just so good to him. Comforting. He loves the characters, he loves that they're horses, he loves the story and the music and the colours... He knows all the lines by heart, he could probably recite each scene without looking. 

But maybe it's _because_ it's so familiar that it manages to calm his unstable thoughts into something more manageable, makes him relax properly into the couch. Somehow, his head is suddenly on Dave's shoulder, his upper body twisted a little towards him as colours fly blindly past his eyes. He's seen the series a hundred times, so he doesn't actually have to watch it... 

A small smile settles on him. Man, after the previous fiasco, he was sure Dave would be mad at him. He's... glad he isn't. He's glad he's got Dave. 

It's okay to think sappy shit like that when you're watching MLP. It brainwashes you into becoming a good person.

Dave watches the show play on screen, but he’s not really listening to it. He’s a lot more focused on what’s happening right next to him.

They don’t… _do this._ They haven’t in a long time. It’s not like they’re full on cuddling or anything, but Dirk’s head is on his shoulder and it’s just… wow, his heart suddenly aches, because he _misses_ Dirk. Like, yeah, he sees Dirk almost every day. But it’s not _like this._

Here it comes, the full on cuddle.

He slips his arm out, from where it’s been smashed between their two bodies, and lifts it around Dirk. He almost hesitates, because the last time they got too close for comfort, Dirk broke down and disappeared for ten days. But this is _different._ And he can prove to Dirk that it’s different.

He lets his arm settle comfortably around Dirk’s shoulders, holding him close. It feels…

Amazing.

Like he’s home.

Nostalgia tugs at the ache in him. He forgets sometimes, that under the countless layers of irony they coat their relationship in, he _loves_ Dirk. They’re a family, and they’ve been through so much together, why the fuck _shouldn’t_ they cuddle all the time? Who’s stopping them?

Hell, call it ironic cuddling, whatever. It doesn’t have to be a _thing._

God, he’s getting mushy.

“Hey, don’t take this the wrong way… but like…” Dave glances down at Dirk. Dirk has spent so long taking care of Dave, it’s Dave’s turn now. He pushes Dirk’s hair away from his forehead and presses a soft kiss to the skin there.

Dirk is so comfortable, he doesn't even notice Dave's arm sliding around him until the warm seeps in. He has a moment of confusion, because when did he even lean his head on Dave- but he settles down again, accepting the comfort for what it is. 

Dave has grown up to be a good man, he silently thinks to himself as he looks up at Dave, at his sharp jawline and the way his cheek presses up enough to make the slightest hint of a crow's feet in the corner of his eye. The way his dimple shows. 

He remembers Dave, nine years old, chubby-cheeked but rail-thin. Big, young eyes always pleading for love, affection, food. He still remembers grabby hands, small t-shirts and how it felt holding him against himself when they got this apartment, so tight that for a moment he’d thought he'd crushed the kid. 

What a way he's come. Has Dirk gotten any way...? He hopes so. 

Disrupted in his way too sentimental musings, he feels his bangs being displaced, a set of soft lips on his forehead, a soft breath through Dave's nose washing over him that sends tingles through his scalp. 

He closes his eyes, too taken aback to do much else; and the last thing he wants is to stop the feeling aching in him. 

When Dave pulls back, he wraps his arms around Dave's middle, scooching a little closer, eyes stinging, though not in a bad way. 

He's missed Dave. He could do without anything else, but without Dave...? 

Without Dave, he's lost. 

He squeezes him gently, and hides his face into Dave's shirt, feeling warm and heart full to the brim. 

Fucking MLP, man. It brings miracles.

_[artist twitter:[@AmaliDoodles]](https://twitter.com/AmaliDoodles)_

Dave can’t help the grin that grows on his face as Dirk hides away in his t-shirt. He’s acting like some kind of anime school girl character, and even though Dave _knows_ that it’s sincere, he can easily do Dirk the courtesy of thinking it’s ironic.

He doesn’t say anything else after that. He’s happy that Dirk didn’t recoil from him, and he’s so ready to spend the rest of the afternoon on the couch with him. Even if it means watching even more ponies.

After a while, they end up laid down together, on their sides, spooned up together with Dirk as the little spoon. Dave is grateful for the way that Dirk isn’t facing him, so he can properly ignore the cartoon playing on the tv without being guilty about it.

Okay, so maybe he’s gotten a little more sucked into it than he thought he would. It’s not… a terrible show. He’s seen worse. And it’s easy to just keep watching for hours on end. Maybe that’s why Dirk like it, so he can zone out for hours at a time without disappearing.

He’s reminded again, of Dirk’s most recent disappearance, and how upset Karkat was while he was gone. Man, it was so good to see the two of them cuddling this morning. Such a relief. So cute.

Speaking of...

He shifts behind Dirk, until he can fish his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks it and opens his photo album, so he can start to flip through the pictures he took. He keeps flipping back and forth, only grinning wider and wider the more distressed Dirk looks in the photos.

“Hey bro, check it out,” he says, and holds his phone in front for them both to see, stopped on a particularly cute picture.

For a long time, it's bliss. Pure utter fucking bliss, and he's not even joking. 

Just laying there with the ponies doing their thing on screen, Dave a comforting presence behind him, fresh clothes on his body and newly fixed up, though there's aching from his various little pitch-wounds. 

He's happy Dave is behind him, because his eyelids are getting hella heavy, and he might have actually dozed for an episode there. So utterly fucking comfortable, it was too good to not get a little nap in. 

When Dave shifts behind him he makes a complaining little grunt, eyes blinking open. He rubs at the corner of his eye with a finger, squinting to make Dave's phone come into focus. 

Oh _God_. 

He grabs onto the hand that's on the phone, leaning forward to look a little closer at the atrocity. He blushes. 

Look at that _hair_ . Look at how _red_ he is!! Look at Karkat's smirking fucking face, eyes open and everything-!!! 

"Delete it." His face is gaining a colour similar to how it looks on the picture and he _knows_ it. "Delete this abomination." 

His thumb starts fiddling around to find the delete key, but he's tired, and of course Dave is tool enough to have an iphone.

Dave laughs, and it’s a warm, breathy noise. As Dirk completely fails to force him to delete the picture, he swipes to another, and then to the next, letting Dirk see all of them that he took. He’s pretty much got Dirk trapped too, with the way he’s got his own body wrapped around Dirk’s. It’s the perfect crime.

“No way, dude, these are perfect. So kawaii. Look at how Karkat looks at you, shit.” Dave stops, eyes fixed on exactly that. On Karkat’s face, somehow so soft and affectionate, yet sly and predatory at the same time. All for Dirk, _all for him_ as he starts to climb on top of Dirk.

Dave wonders if Karkat ever looks at _him_ like that.

He hums and flips back to a different photo. He’s not sure what that feeling was he was starting to feel, but he didn’t exactly like it. Something like doubt or jealousy, or-- ugh. It’s stupid, he doesn’t need to feel shit like that when literally everything is fine.

And really, he’s happy for the two of them. They’re his two favorite people, and he’s glad that they make each other happy. Or angry. Or however that works.

He presses his mouth to Dirk’s shoulder, hiding the lower part of his face in it as he keeps looking at his phone. They really _are_ cute together.

“Were you sleeping?” he asks, just to change the subject. Dirk’s tired voice and slightly blurred words make him think that he definitely just woke his bro up from a nap. “We can like, go to bed or something,” he offers. Even as he says it though, he can already feel Dirk turning him down. Getting all cozy and close on the couch is one thing, but Dave already feels like he might be pushing whatever boundary Dirk is keeping up between them. Going to bed together might be too far.

Dave wouldn’t mind it, though, if Dirk said yes.

"Ugh, I swear to fuck, Dave-..." Dirk grumbles, but the fight runs out of him pretty quick, a little taken with how him and Karkat looks together. 

Yeah, he looks like he just came back from war, but... They don't look _bad_ together. His arm wrapped around Karkat, his wide eyes as Karkat starts to take charge, Karkat's widening grin. 

Shit. 

"He's a fucking tool," he huffs out, but the affectionate tone is there, under his irritation. 

Blinking at the change of subject, he twitches to turn to look at Dave, but he almost clonks his chin against Dave's head. 

Self-consciously, he rubs at his tired eyes again. At first he thinks Dave means they could go their separate ways to their bed, but... The way he phrased it. 

His overthinking brain kicks in, and he lies his head down again, sighing out a little. Did Dave want to sleep with him because this is cozy, or because...? But they haven't done anything bad now. It's fine. 

Still silent, he watches MLP, hand still on Dave's when both their arms go lax. This _is_ very nice. Like this, he could probably get another good night of sleep. 

Besides, he has to change the sheets in his bedroom. A good excuse.

"Well, 'm sleepin' here or at yours anyway, cause I am not changing my bed today." He looks at their hands, eyes heavily lidded. "Remember we had to share a bed, when we first got here...?" 

He remembers. Dave kicked like mule during his sleep as a kid.

“...I remember…” Dave says. He doesn’t remember a whole lot from when they first got here. He was young, and now that he knows _why_ they were alone, he’s not shocked to realize that some of it is probably blacked out by trauma. He probably doesn’t _want_ to remember the missing pieces.

But he _does_ remember Dirk. He remembers the days on end they spent here, alone, together. How careful Dirk was, how full his stomach was, how much he loved the time they spent together, before… Before, well, Dirk probably got a job? He remembers at some point, Dirk being around less, and kind of... resenting him for it.

Of course, he knows now that Dirk was doing his best. It wasn’t realistic for them to spend the rest of their lives sleeping in the same bed together. But now, they can again.

He drops his phone from his hand to turn it in Dirk’s, carding their fingers together, giving it a good squeeze. “Let’s go, then. Everypony up, off the couch.” Even as he says it, he’s not sure if Dirk can get up on his own. Honestly, as much as they _have_ been through… what the fuck did Karkat _do_ to Dirk to leave him like this? He’s almost afraid to ask.

So he climbs over Dirk and up onto his feet, and uses the hand he’s still holding to help Dirk up.

Dirk's heart feels light. He squeezes back, a smile lighting up his sleepy face. 

When Dave makes a pony-reference, he lights up even more. He meets Dave's eyes with a little grin, then snickering- then _groaning_ , cause he has to get up, and he feels his skin stretch and pull uncomfortably around his wounds. 

"Mm're we go..." With a little starting rock, he rolls off the couch and onto his feet, his other hand grabbing onto Dave's shoulder firmly.

Fortunately, his legs are a bit steadier than they were earlier, though his gait is still... Far from his normal, confident stroll. He'll have to see if he has tighter underwear tomorrow. 

"Heh..." They're almost in a walts-pose, which is kinda fucking hilarious. "Well, c'mon." He slowly lets go of Dave's shoulder, holding Dave's hand firmly as they walk. If he's about to fall, he'll just lean some more on Dave. 

It's not like he doesn't wanna let go of his hand, because that would be really dumb. 

He leads/gets lead to Dave's bedroom, and though he'd usually use the time to take in Dave's various projects and pictures and what-not, Dave's bed looks the most interesting, comfort-wise. 

Tired of feeling like an old man, he flops onto the sheet, a little wheeze squeezing out of him. "Oouf.." He pinches his eyes shut, then looks up to Dave. 

He pats the spot next to him, blinking heavily. 

Knowing that it's still early and Dave probably doesn't want or need sleep as much as Dirk, he takes the inner spot, so Dave can get out of bed should he wish to without waking Dirk... 

Here he is, planning again. Insert the biggest sigh here.

Dave is slightly taken off guard by how easy it is to get Dirk to play along. God, the way Dirk is looking at him is just… so open and comfortable. Tired. Trusting. It’s bizarre.

It makes him feel fuzzy. Makes his face hot all over again. It’s too bad it’s still daylight out, because Dirk can probably see exactly how affected he is in the light from the window.

Much more gracefully than Dirk did, he climbs into bed and lies down beside Dirk. He pulls the covers up around them and closes his eyes with a sigh. He takes a moment to pull himself together, and then opens his eyes again.

“You picked my side,” he says, but he’s not mad about it. He scoots in closer again and puts a hand on Dirk’s side, but he’s not sure how much closer he should get now that they’re face to face. Maybe he should leave the pace-setting up to Dirk.

“Karkat has this weird thing about, like… I don’t know, protection, I guess? Like, if someone broke in, he would be between them and me, it’s so stupid. Like I don’t know how to look after myself or something.” He rubs a thumb absently over Dirk’s t-shirt, feeling the bandages underneath. “It’s cute, though. You know how he is.”

His voice stays soft in the quiet of the room. They didn’t turn the television off, so the cartoon still plays quietly in the background. He can’t make out anything that’s being said, but… it’s nice. It cuts down on the intimacy of them looking at each other like this, like it doesn’t have to be quite so heavy or awkward.

It doesn’t stop Dave from wanting to give Dirk’s cheek another kiss, though.

He bites his own lip to stop it, again unsure of what’s okay and what’s not. _Damn their sick bastard of a Bro,_ he thinks. Even now, when they haven’t seen him for years, he’s still ruining things for them.

Dirk can see Dave's cheeks colour, and his own colour a little with empathy. 

He looks a little uncertain as Dave joins him in bed, but when Dave stops up at a pretty safe distance he seems to melt into the mattress again, grabbing onto a pillow and stuffing it under his head. 

Dave's hand on him is warm, and infinitely gentler than Karkat's. Just as he thinks that, Dave starts talking about him. Ha. 

They sure share a boyfriend, but they might as well have been dating two different people from what Dave is saying. 

"Protection...?" He murmurs it, eyes slipping closed slowly before opening again. “First time I've heard about that. Guess it's more of a red thing... Anyway, I suppose it could be taken as-..." he interrupts himself with a small yawn, "an insult if a pitch partner does it. Like, 'guess I have to take care of you when you can't yourself'...?" Checking that one out later.

"He is pretty cute though, I'll give'im that. He pretends to be all tough and shit, but..." A small snicker, and he scooches a little closer, enough that Dave's lower arm can easily rest over his side. "He's like a lil' kitten when all comes to all." 

He fixes a pillow for Dave as well, not looking him in the eye, but laying an arm comfortably over Dave's side, their feet brushing together. He gives out a soft sigh, sexual thoughts sliding in unwanted; he's more than glad to push them away. 

It's a... Relief. That there's no connotation to this. They just want to be close. Just want to chill. 

His eyes blip closed again for a long while, and he tangles their legs up further. "He's been good for you... 'can see it. 'm glad." He smiles softly; he has. Even though it hasn't been long since they've actually, properly, put a label on it together, Dave has never been as confident and free as he's been with Karkat around. 

It hurts, but kind of in a good way, that Dave's found someone like that. He wanted to be that person too, but a psuedo parental is probably not the best choice.

Karkat is a good alternative.

Dave melts away as Dirk cuddles up closer to him. He can only hope that this means that whatever hurt Dirk was holding onto is starting to slip away. He’s sure that Dirk will never be completely over it, but he’s so fucking glad that Dirk can be comfortable with him.

He lets his arm slide from resting on Dirk, to resting around him. He hugs Dirk, and if it pulls him a little closer, he’s not going to be the one to complain. Dirk cards their legs together so comfortably, it makes him feel so light and warm.

“You too…” he says. They’re so close now, their noses only a few inches apart. He can feel Dirk breathing. “I like watching you two together… I mean-- wait.” His very unfortunate history of being a voyeur for the other two comes to the surface, and he can’t _deny_ it, but-- “That’s not what I mean. I mean like… the soft shit. The bickering and the stupid ass banter. Seriously, you guys so embarrassing, with how much you obviously like each other.”

Okay, wait, does that sound like an insult. He quickly adds, “Feels good to see. You’ve never talked as much as you talk to him.”

He doesn’t add that he wishes he could be closer with Dirk again. They used to be… _so_ close. And they still are, but things… changed somewhere along the line. Hopefully this is the start of it coming back again. He’s loving every second of it, and he hopes it’s not a one-off.

Dirk chuckles, shaking both their frames a little, their noses bumping together, and his eyes goes just a tad cross-eyed when he tries holding Dave's gaze. With another little after-chuckle, he closes his eyes together again, their noses still touching. 

"I- ... _talk_ ..." He says it with a kind of teasing offence. "But I gotta get extra wordy or he's gonna talk all over me. Have you _heard him_ during movies...? Shit is insane..." 

His hands, while not wandering at all, feel and stim a little at Dave's shirt. His naked ankle against Dave's is all tingly where their skin meets. 

It's like having your best friend over for a sleepover for the first time, Dirk thinks, having never actually had that. But he imagines that this must be how it feels. Secret, intimate, like they're the only two people left in the world. 

"He's a good guy," he concedes, his breath soft against Dave's lips as he talks. "According to troll wikipedia and him, I supposedly hate him a whole fucking bunch." 

A small pause, "And you love him a lot, hmm..." It's not really a question. 

Karkat Vantas is Strider property.

As close as Dirk is now, it’s hard for Dave to focus on anything _but_ that. He’s overwhelmed with the desire to pull Dirk even closer, to plant that kiss he’s been thinking about on Dirk’s cheek, but Dirk’s word snap him _right out of it._

Even if they were _talking_ about Karkat, Dave’s mind had been pretty squarely focused on Dirk. On how much he misses and cares about his brother. Their newly budding, mending relationship. But now he’s been called out on his feelings for Karkat, and--

Fuck, talk about whiplash.

“Uh…” he says. He fidgets now, because it didn’t sound like Dirk was _asking_ if he loved Karkat. It sounded like he already _knew._

“...Well… Yeah…” he admits, awkwardly, hesitantly. He hasn’t really said it out loud yet, and he definitely hasn’t said it to Karkat. He’s barely admitted it to himself. But they’ve been friends for _so long_ now, and it was the obvious climax to their friendship over the years. “But we haven’t talked about… that… yet… The L word…”

He feels childish saying it, like it should be something easy to tell his boyfriend that he loves him, but… It’s just not. It’s something he’s been thinking about for a long time, and it needs to be perfect…

To put himself back on track, he slowly runs his hand up Dirk’s side. Over his shoulder, gently up his neck. Into his hair… It’s soft, with nothing in it. How he managed to stop himself from touching it when they were laying on the couch together is beyond him, but now that he’s done it, he doesn’t want to stop.

He runs his fingers through it, presses soothing circles into Dirk’s scalp. As much as he doesn’t want to talk about his own love-induced drama, he doesn’t want to completely derail the topic. “You don’t seem to have a problem saying it, though. So have you already told him?”

Briefly, he thinks it’s weird that he doesn’t already _know_ if Dirk has told Karkat about his feelings or not. Karkat used to tell Dave _everything,_ but maybe… not anymore? Did things change when they started dating? Come to think of it, Karkat hasn’t said much of anything to Dave about his and Dirk’s relationship. Maybe it’s none of his business.

Ouch.

Between his boyfriend and his brother it should be a little bit his business, right? He wonders if Karkat tells Dirk about _him._

"Oh-... Shit, you still aren't there yet-..." Dirk gives Dave's head a little pat, then lets his arm fall again, reuniting with Dave's shirt. "Didn't mean to stress you out, lil bro... Dunno much about red quadrants, but stressing ain't solvin' anything."

He doesn't even feel like much of a hypocrite as he says it; it's just the truth- uh. Actually, Dirk might have the opposite problem. 

Dave's hand migrate upwards, and Dirk shivers and sighs a little, relaxing into the touch, glad his eyes are closed. Dave's hand is so careful, gentle. No tugging or forceful moments, and he's not being sweet to mock Dirk, it's... _Dave_. 

He leans his head back a little into Dave's hand, and if he felt like he was being soft for _Karkat_ , this is a whole 'nother story. He lets a small 'mmh...' slip through his nose, nuzzling into his pillow. 

He answers, voice slurred,

"Yeah we've already said we hate each other... Uh, maybe my human brain thinks that's not so hard to say...?" It came so naturally, when he first said it. Karkat's face was also... Damn, the way his eyes widened before squinting into that falsely sweet grin...

So close to sleep, he doesn't feel like he can do as good a job at... whatever it is Dave's doing, but unlike with Karkat it doesn't _feel_ like a competition. It feels like Dave wants to do it, so he does it. 

Still, he doesn't like just laying there and letting Dave spoil him all that much, so he moves a hand up to gently cup the back of Dave's neck, smoothing his thumb over his pulse slowly. 

" 'think we just had a discussion 'bout goin' too fast though, so maybe it ain't too much better, ha..." There's heat between them, and Dirk _loves_ it. It soaks him until he's warm too, but never too much. It's better than all the showers in the world. 

"You're doin' good, not rushin'."

Dave hums quietly when Dirk tells him he’s doing good. He sure hopes that’s true… 

He watches Dirk’s face, the way he can’t keep his eyes open, the soft line of his lips. He looks so different, when he’s not trying to be cold on purpose. He wants to dig deeper into what Dirk said about going too fast, but Dirk just looks… so peaceful. Maybe he should just let him sleep.

“We must be doing something right, if he hasn’t kicked us both to the curb yet,” he says. It’s quiet, though, doesn’t really warrant an answer if Dirk is too tired to keep talking. He keeps petting his hand gently through Dirk’s hair, unable to take his eyes off his relaxed face.

He honestly can’t remember the last time Dirk looked so _calm._ It’s refreshing. It lifts a weight off his shoulders that he didn’t even know he was carrying. And it feels good that Dirk is _letting_ him be comforting. Usually, Dirk is too fucking proud to let anything like this happen. Or he turns it around, and tries to make it seem like Dave is actually the one who needs it.

He remembers how shattered Dirk had looked, standing in the kitchen, trying to keep himself together while he was breaking apart. His desperate, empty eyes. The way his voice shook.

He still wishes that Dirk had _told him._ He doesn’t want to think about how many nights Dirk spent alone, looking _just like that._ It breaks his fucking heart, knowing that Dirk had been carrying that around inside him for so long. 

And like, he knows that Striders are too cool for all that mushy emotional shit. But maybe that’s not actually always a good thing.

Damn, he’s going to start tearing up again.

The hand in Dirk’s hair slides around to cradle the back of his head, and pulls Dirk in to close the gap between them. He tucks his chin into Dirks hair, holds him close, lets out a slightly shaky sigh. You know who else he hasn’t told he loves him…?

“...”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Wow, it shouldn’t be that fucking hard. He’s said it before, they both have, but for some reason it feels weighted now. Like they’re already in such a vulnerable position, and neither of them is used to it, and what if it’s too much?

But… Dirk needs to know that it’s okay.

“Hey bro?” he asks, only a whisper in the quiet room. “Uh… I’m glad that we… hung out today. And like. Y’know. I love you, and all that. You’re trying so hard, and you’re doing so good. You should… relax more often.”

His arms squeeze just a little tighter around Dirk’s frame. 

Dirk laughs lightly at the thought of Karkat kicking them out on the curb, highly amused. "Well, Karkat kicking _us_ out is funny, cause he's at our place pretty much all the time. Sieging the house sounds pretty damn cool though." 

Another bout of chuckles is muffled into Dave's shirt, taking a deep breath in; he colours further, but what does it matter when he's all snug up against Dave's chest, he can't _see it._

Actually, he's so relaxed, that when Dave utters out the L word despite not having said it to Karkat, his boyfriend, he only freezes up a little, some cold tension in his stomach. 

He... He _is_ trying hard. Fuck. He's been trying so hard with Karkat, maybe not in the normal sense of what _normal_ people do, but-... Maybe, some place in him, he feels that Karkat doesn't know how hard he's been trying to make himself something worthy for their relationship, bending his own rules to accommodate what they have. 

And -... Dave loves him. Of course he does. That lil' fuckers had stars in his eyes since first grade, maybe even earlier than that. Of course, there were times where he'd rather glare, argue, rebel. Every teenager does that.

Not just that, of course. He's been a shit guardian, and he knows it. Long nights working, and he wouldn't know what some of the emotions in his own self was if it was written into his one of his codes, much less _Dave's feelings_. And even then, how the fuck would he console a teenager and his fears? 

But despite all that, despite the distance growing between them, that every forum Dirk had scourged through had said was normal and expected at a certain age between both brothers and parent and child, he... It had pained him. The distance. 

Now, it... Now, Dave is telling him to... Not. He doesn't want the distance. 

Some forums said that _could_ happen. 

He didn't think it would happen to _him_.

He squeezes Dave harder, holding his breath. Not sure if it's okay, the way his throat closes up and his tears sting. 

He only replies with a hesitant nod.

When Dirk doesn’t say anything back, Dave takes that as a sign that they’re done talking. The little nod in his chest is enough of a confirmation for him.. That Dirk _knows._ That he needs a break. That he needs this time to relax and just… be.

If this is what Dave needs to be for Dirk, then so be it. He sure as fuck isn’t going to complain. He’ll snuggle the fuck out of his older brother, and he’ll enjoy it, too.

He turns his face down into Dirk’s hair and plants another soft kiss on his head. It’s a good thing there are no stray Daves around to bust in the room and start taking pictures. That would be hella rude and not cool. Even if he hasn’t taken a selfie with his bro in _ages._

He closes his eyes and continues to pet softly down the back of Dirk’s neck, feeling the short hairs there. Suddenly, he’s more tired than he thought he was. Maybe he’ll fall asleep faster than planned.

.

.

When Karkat gets off work, he texts Dave to let him know that he’s on his way back over. It only takes him about fifteen minutes to get there, but as he’s walking up to the door, he checks his phone again and… Dave hasn’t replied? Weird. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe Dirk is still up.

He tries the door, but it’s locked, so he fishes out his own key. Aaaand, okay, all the lights are off, too. It’s way too early for either Strider to be asleep, so what gives? Are they not home?

He makes his way to Dirk’s bedroom first, which he finds empty. Then, he tries Dave’s, and--

Oh.

Well, look at that. There they both are. Asleep.

He stands there in the doorway for a moment, watching them, listening to them breathe softly. They’re all wrapped up in each other, soft, exposed. It’s… so fucking sweet?? A pale pile if he’s ever fucking seen one. 

He shouldn’t interrupt. No matter how badly he wants to sandwich himself between them, he _shouldn’t._

So after taking another big ol’ eyefull of his boys, he silently backs out of the room. He locks the door on his way out and heads back to his own place for the night.


	10. Dave/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave and Karkat have a little chat and then... stop chatting. :)

CG: SO… YOU AND DIRK.

Dave has already been awake for a long while when Karkat sends him the text. 

He looks over to Dirk's still sleeping form, reluctant to leave him there on his lonesome after yesterday; he has this nagging feeling that they should wake up together, or that at least Dirk should wake up to see him here. 

With a quick face-recognition, he's checking out his latest pester, and his brows shoot up.

Now that he thinks about it, yeah, Karkat isn't here with them. It's almost unusual: Karkat more often than not sleeps at their place, heads over to theirs after work, spends the weekends... Hell, if he hadn't had Dirk in his arms all night, he probably wouldn't have been able to sleep. 

After only a slight hesitance and a glance to Dirk's lax, sleeping face, he answers,

TG: uuh yeah, what about us..?

Karkat nearly _laughs_ at the response. Does Dave think that he can hide this from him? After how long they’ve known each other? Oh Dave, Karkat _knows_ you too well.

CG: I SAW YOU, YOU CAN’T ACT LIKE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN.  
CG: WHEN I CAME HOME LAST NIGHT.

Wait, shit, that’s not what he meant--

CG: I MEAN, YOUR HOUSE.  
CG: YOU WERE ALL OVER EACH OTHER, AND I WOULD HAVE JUST HATEDDD TO BREAK YOU UP. SO I WENT HOME.  
CG: DID YOU HAVE A GOOD NIGHT?

With a blink and some heat in his face, Dave furrows his brows a little more; so he _did come home_ \-- 

Ah. 

He grins and snickers quietly into his palm as Karkat hastily corrects himself. So cute, holy shit. 

Reading through the messages again, he rubs at a cheek, still a little flustered. 

So he saw them cuddling. So what..? Bros cuddle. He even saw Karkat and Dirk cuddle, so what the hell? 

TG: ok, you saw us get our snuggle on big deal   
TG: you couldve stayed man you know where the extra duvets are   
TG: or are you jealous? ill snuggle you too man   
TG: nobody can hide from my snuggle prowess, im like a snuggle ninja you never know when im gonna attack im suddenly there holding you in a strangehold of affection and there is no escape. 

Oops. He takes a moment wish there was a way to erase sent messages. 

TG: but yeah i had a good night  
TG: ended up watching a lot of mlp. man its so funny dirk loves that shit. its not horrible or anything but you know what i mean   
TG: did you have a good night?

Karkat rolls his eyes at Dave’s rambling, trying and failing to keep the smile off his face. He can just _hear_ it in his head, the way Dave physically can’t stop talking, until he’s said too much and his cheeks get all pink.

Ridiculous.

CG: MY NIGHT WAS FINE. I KIND OF SLEPT LIKE SHIT, BUT THIS ISN’T ABOUT ME, DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT DAVE.  
CG: ARE YOU SURE THAT’S ALL IT WAS? A SNUGGLE? ARE YOU SURE?  
CG: IT DIDN’T LOOK LIKE IT WAS A SIMPLE SNUGGLE.  
CG: I WOULD HAVE SAT MY HAPPY ASS RIGHT DOWN IN BETWEEN YOU IF IT WAS.  
CG: YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME IF YOU DON’T WANT TO, BUT I THINK IT’S CUTE. I’M ONLY A LITTLE BIT JEALOUS.

His smile falls into a bit of a frown. It’s not like he _lost_ Dave or anything. He’s got more of Dave now than he ever thought he would.

...but he _did_ lose a moirail...

Oh, fuck. Dave feels a little pang in his chest, not quite guilt. It's also mixed with some hefty embarrassment, and he smiles dumbly at his phone, peeking over to Dirk again. 

TG: yeah it was just a snuggle   
TG: i dont really know what youre expecting of me here you were welcome to join us like i said   
TG: dirk probably wouldntve minded either you were snuggling just yesterday 

And man, wasn't that just all hells of cute. 

TG: i can send the pics i took later if you want them   
TG: anyway dude sorry to hear you couldnt sleep well that sucks   
TG: but honestly i dont know what it is im supposed to not want to tell you about 

He smiles even wider (and more dumbly) at Karkat's last message, heart squeezing in the best kind of way. 

There's no way anyone can be as cute as Karkat- except possibly Dirk right now, but Karkat is cute _all the time_. How can he even exist...? 

TG: you dont even have to be jealous babe   
TG: just come over we can cuddle and make out   
TG: if you want to

Karkat reads through the string of texts, and then again. Dave really is just… too good. His teasing falls flat as his heart gets even warmer. There’s nothing he would love more than to wrap himself up in Dave and kiss him for a few hours.

Especially after what happened with Dirk. Not that he doesn’t _also_ want to sit around and kiss on Dirk for just as long, it just… kind of feels like it’s been a while since he spent some time with Dave.

CG: YOU DON’T HAVE TO ASK IF I WANT TO. OF COURSE I WANT TO.  
CG: DOES THAT MEAN YOU’RE DONE WITH YOUR PALE PILE THEN?  
CG: OOPS, I MEAN YOUR TOTALLY REGULAR CUDDLE. NOT A DIAMOND IN SIGHT.

Right. Like He doesn’t know what Dave’s pale looks like up close and personal. But whatever, he doesn’t care if Dave doesn’t want to admit it. It’s none of his business, right? He’s Dave’s matesprite now, Dave’s moirail doesn’t affect him.

...it doesn’t.

He gets himself up and starts to put his shoes on so he can leave.

CG: I’M LEAVING, I’LL BE THERE SOON.

Haha, that's cool. Never mind that Dave's face is flushed a healthy pink at Karkat's casual admission that he wants to. 

Ugh, his directness always knocks his breath out a little. Even if he always says otherwise, Karkat is... pretty cool. 

Wait. 

Pale-pile? 

Dave stares at it for a long moment, then the next message. 

_What_. 

TG: pale pile   
TG: hold on theres no pale pile going on over here   
TG: put those diamonds away vantass those do not belong here  
TG: or like wait   
TG: wait are we still pale?   
TG: predicament of the decade dude, like, were matesprits now right?  
TG: we did that vaccilation thing or whatever or maybe we didnt do people do both pale and red?   
TG: i think i read about that once.   
TG: wait fuck why are we talking about that thats not what i was gonna say   
TG: anyway me and dirk are just best bros and we snuggled   
TG: and when you get over there im gonna kiss you and hug you and were gonna make breakfast together because i suck at cooking. 

Oh no. 

TG: see you soon babe

It's only because he's embarrassed that he doesn't end it with 'love you'. He slumps a little. 

Way to keep your mouth shut, Dave.

Karkat is almost out the door, when his phone goes off again. What he expects is just some typical Dave rambling about how him and Dirk are definitely not pale, but when he looks at his phone, what he sees is… Typical Dave rambling about… not that.

He stops dead in his tracks, and reads the messages about ten more times.

Dave thinks they’re vacillating? Dave thinks vacillation is _normal?_ Okay, so maybe Dirk’s obsessive research isn’t all that bad, if this kind of miscommunication is what happens with _no_ research.

He stands up straight, face to face with his still unopened door.

CG: DAVE.

His fingers hesitate over they keys, not knowing what he’s supposed to say. Fuck, this is hard. He wishes this would have happened in person instead. This is _a lot._

And anyway, wasn’t _Dave_ the one who said they weren’t moirails? Back on that day, right before Karkat confessed his feelings. And Dave returned his feelings…

It had been pretty fucking clear what was happening. At least he _thought._

Too much time passes before he manages to send another text.

CG: THAT’S NOT REALLY HOW THIS WORKS.  
CG: WE CAN BE PALE. OR WE CAN BE RED.

His heart aches, even just to type it. He _misses_ Dave being in his diamond, but they absolutely can not go down that road. He has a pretty messy history with vacillation already, and he knows that it’s not healthy, as tempting as it can be. As much as he loves Dave in every type of way…

He thinks, though… that it’s probably normal to mourn the loss. Even though he still has Dave, they did technically break up their moirallegiance, and that shit hurts. Maybe Dave is hurting too.

CG: I DON’T REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT THIS OVER TEXT.  
CG: LIKE I SAID. I’LL BE THERE SOON.

With a frown, he stuffs his phone into his pocket and opens his door to finally leave.

The moment Dave sees Karkat hesitating, a resounding ' _Fuck._ ' vibrates like a gong in his head. He wants to spam Karkat again, but he _can't_ , because Karkat wants to talk in person…

TG: sure thing dude we can talk when you get here   
TG: but like just so were on the clear i love  
TG: kissing you and shit so yeah keep that in mind i guess   
TG: but yeah lets not talk about that on text i get that you wanna talk about it in person on text its like what the fuck are you even feeling you know   
TG: i mean youre pretty clear on text dont get me wrong   
TG: holy shit ok im gonna put on my clothes now.   
TG: and like maybe brush my teeth so we can smooch a bit  
TG: cause youre my boyfriend   
TG: OK well youre probably already halfway here so just use your key or whatever but be quiet cause dirk is still sleeping and you know how rare it is for him to sleep in   
TG: anyway cool cool ill see you in a sec Karkat   
TG: <3   
TG: fuck 

He gently facepalms himself, looking down at the wall of absolute shit he just spewed out. You'd think he could stop himself. 

Ok, just gotta chill the fuck out. Silently, he sneaks out of the room to go brush his teeth, hands itching to write more to Karkat. 

What he doesn't do for love. For real.

Karkat can hear his phone vibrating, but he doesn’t answer it. Whatever Dave is panic-messaging him will be too hard not to respond to, so he waits until he’s on his way up to their front door.

He scrolls through it, stares at it with his key stuck in the door. Everything about it spells that Dave wants Karkat to stay red and Dirk to be his pale. So what’s the issue, exactly? Is Dave just confused?

His own feelings aside, maybe it’s as easy as a simple conversation.

He opens the door, _quietly_ like he was told to. It really is rare for Dirk to get a full night’s sleep, let alone to sleep in. They can both agree that Dirk shouldn’t be disturbed.

He toes off his shoes and heads to the kitchen, where he assumes that Dave will be. It’s a little late for breakfast, but that’s beside the point. He finds Dave at the table, and automatically he makes his way over for a kiss. It’s quick, a greeting, a good morning. It’s amazing how the routine is already so deeply ingrained in him, when they’ve only been dating for a few weeks.

“...Hi,” he says, after he pulls away. He stands there awkwardly for a moment before pulling out his own chair to take a seat. “What’s going on?” he asks, in a very open ended way. Like maybe he’s only asking about how Dave’s day is going.

But they both know what he means.

Oh _god_ Karkat's not replying. 

Ok, no, maybe that's a good thing, he hasn't even opened them, that means he knows he's just ranting. Man, Karkat knows him so well. He's so fucking lucky he has a guy like Karkat in his life. 

After brushing his teeth, he stands in front of the fridge for a good while before realizing that nah, he'll actually just fuck up whatever it is he'll end up wanting to cook. Better wait. 

So he sits down at the table, fingers drumming quietly in a rhythmic beat, head bobbing. Maybe he spits out some sick lyrics, who knows. 

Then the door is opening (quietly, okay, he read the messages now, cool), and when he sees Karkat's kind of unassuming face, his sharp gaze... 

Yeah, things aren't so bad. 

They're _definitely_ not bad when Karkat comes over for their now easy greeting-kiss. He can feel his heart calming. 

"...Hey." Fuck, he loves Karkat so much. 

When Karkat sits down, he leans over to give him another, longer smooch, a hand coming up to run through Karkat's hair. 

_So_ much. 

"I don't know," he whines quietly when he leans back again. "I just. Me and Dirk, we're not pale, we're just bros, and being pale with your bro is weird right, and then I was like, wait, weren't we pale? Because we talked a lot about all kindsa stuff, but I realized we _haven't_ been talking about all kindsa stuff lately, you know? And I was like, shit, is that bad? But maybe it's not if we're red, but like, I still want us to _talk_ , I still care about you so much dude, I want to know what's going on in your life??" 

A breath in,

"And the way you said like, 'I'm only a little jealous', I don't want you to be jealous? I mean it's totally valid if you are, I'm not here to undermine your feelings because if you feel it you feel it, but what can I do to make it-- better? Red and pale isn't that far apart, right? And me'n Dirk, we're not pale, see, so both of those are open for me, and it's probably different with humans anyway?" 

He kisses Karkat again, because his own rambling makes him nervous even though Karkat doesn't really give him any clues as to what he's thinking at the moment- well, it takes him a couple seconds to process all of Dave's bullshit, most people tones him out after the first bout of words. 

"But like, I want to kiss and make- fuck, and touch and - and all that, you know?" He voice is in that hypnotic monotone, finding a rhythm in his ramble, hands migrating over to Karkat's thighs to rub at them, eyes searching Karkats' pleadingly.

Karkat listens, and he tries-- fucking _tries_ to keep up, but Dave just talks so fucking fast when he’s nervous. It’s almost easier to deal with when they’re texting, so he can read it over more than once, but this isn’t the right time for that.

And even though the kisses distract him, he still tries to pick it apart as Dave finishes mumbling. He’s quiet for probably too long, but he needs to figure out what Dave is trying to say. 

Dave, for some reason, thinks it’s not okay to be pale with Dirk. Dave thinks they don’t talk anymore. Dave definitely thinks quadrant smearing is an okay thing to do.

And it’s _tempting._

Eventually, he looks back up to Dave’s pleading face. He puts a hand over the one on his thigh and rubs a thumb over it.

“First of all,” he starts. “Dirk is an asshole, and I don’t know why anyone would _want_ to be pale with him. But I don’t see why your family unit would make it weird. If you say that’s not what it is, though, then I guess I believe you.” He doesn’t believe him. He knows what he saw. “I was mostly joking about being jealous. I would support it, if that’s what you were.”

He pauses for a moment.

“Secondly… you don’t think we talk enough? I thought we were fine, in that department. Not a lot has changed since we were pale,” he says, and he hopes Dave notices the _were._ “Is there something you feel like you can’t tell me? Or do you think I’m pulling away? Because I know I’ve been spending a lot more time with Dirk than I used to, and I’m sorry for not coming to bed the other night, but that kind of… comes with the territory of me dating both of you. I don’t want you to feel left out, but I also can’t be sorry for giving him my full attention…”

Dave opens his mouth to protest, but ends up closing it again; Karkat is Dirk's pitch, it's probably... Weird, unthinkable for Karkat to consider Dirk as something... pitiable. Soft and sweet and _good_ like that. 

Something to be protected. 

And he most likely doesn't understand how a familial bond will make a... a quadrant weird. But maybe... Maybe that's what a moirail is, to Dave? His family, his closest one. Not sexual, maybe. But that's not what's _important_ when it comes to Dirk. 

Fuck. Maybe he _is_ pale for him. Is Dirk pale for him back? 

Dave sees Dirk's relaxed face in his mind's eye. His desperate, sad face. His hesitant face, a face Dirk made when he tried so hard to keep himself together for Dave. 

Damn it all. Of all the things for Karkat to be right about. 

And that's just one of the two sucker-punches Karkat sends his way: What about _them_? 

Okay, so... 

Desperately, Dave tries seeing it from Karkat's point of view. Did he not feel the change as keenly as he did? Maybe he was a bit too caught up with Dirk to realize that things had changed? Or was vacillation just that kind of thing, much smoother emotionally for him than it was for Dave...? 

Fuck quadrants, man. They're too fucking complicated.

At least, he has the wits to notice that Karkat is definitely not in present tense. Their moirallegiance is in past tense. Firmly so. With slight reluctance, he decides to do so as well, not quite knowing what he's giving up on. 

Firmly, he squeezes Karkat's thighs a little, sighing and nodding a little. Okay. He can go with the punches. He's nothing if not flexible. 

"I... Fuck, Karkat, give me a minute." To reassure Karkat, he smooths his thumbs over his jeans. He catches Karkat's eye, pressing his lips together in a way that makes his dimples stand out. 

"I guess I got scared, when you didn't talk to me about you and Dirk getting together. I realized we hadn't talked about it at all, after we became matesprits. That made me... Uneasy." 

He kisses Karkat for good measure, to calm himself and to maybe prove to himself that _this_ is what he wants. Karkat's lips are soft against his, and he wants to kiss him forever.

"I... was _afraid_ you were pulling away, but I... Well, I don't think so anymore. It wasn't about... you not being with me constantly. Though, I _do_ enjoy that..." He has the decency to blush. 

"Just. Yeah." At least he's not ranting, if only because he can't find the words. "I just needed to know where we stood, you know...? If we were still pale, we'd be in trouble right...?" He wraps Karkat up in a firm hug, sighing again. 

"I want you in red. I'd give you anything, Karkat, but if that's not what you want, I get that too. just. Fuck, man. Look at me, spilling all the beans. I don't even want an english breakfast." 

He places soft, slightly wet kisses up Karkat's neck. "Just... don't bother Dirk with us being pale, ok? He... yeah, that wouldn't be a good move on your part..." 

God, talking about feelings is hard.

Oh god, here comes the _butterflies._ Despite Dave’s obvious struggle, hearing him say that he’s red for Karkat, that he’d do anything for him, just wanting to _talk more..._ Fuck, it leaves Karkat feeling all mushy inside.

He’s too fucking easy, honestly. He wants to kiss Dave and never stop.

He wraps his arms around Dave, holding him so tenderly and tilting his head to let Dave keep kissing his neck. The rational part of him, though, knows that they’re not done yet and he needs to help Dave understand.

“Dave… We don’t have to be pale to do the things we used to do. If you… _want_ me to still confide in you about things, I… guess I can…” Goddamit, he’s caving. This is going to get so messy if he keeps going, but he can’t say no to Dave. “But that’s not really your burden anymore. I didn’t think you would want to hear about my Dirk problems, pale or not, especially considering your relationship with him.”

But wait, fuck, did Dave just admit to haviing pale feelings for Dirk? They can’t both be pale, _fuck,_ what the fuck is happpening??

Breathe. Fuck. Humans are so fucking complicated. _Shit._

What was it he just told Dirk? Don’t think about it so much, just let it happen naturally. _Don’t think so fucking much._ If the two humans are working so hard to cope with Karkat’s quadrants, maybe he can be a little bit more flexible too. Maybe a little bit of smearing is fine.

…

No one needs to know.

He unwraps one arm from Dave’s shoulders and turns his head up for a kiss. He lets it linger, long and tender, until he finally sighs and speaks quietly against Dave’s lips. “I care about you so fucking much, Dave. We can make it work, whatever you want. I’m yours no matter what.” His face heats just a little, with how intensely the admission comes out. But it’s true. He loves Dave, even if they haven’t said it yet.

While the kisses Dave presses tenderly into Karkat's neck are great at calming him down, it's not enough to distract him from Karkat's raspy voice, making the skin under his lips hum. 

Everything becomes slow and easy; ah. With a heart-lifting, tight feeling, Dave realizes that they're both circling around the same thing. They just want each other to be happy, content. 

There's not really a problem at all, because they'll figure it out together. 

Dave gives off a soft sigh as lips unite, eyes slitting open when they part again. 

Karkat is beautiful.

Don't say it yet, Dave. It's gotta be perfect. 

"We'll figure it out, Karkat... I just... care about you so much... too..." Gravity pulls him towards Karkat again, and their lips meet in another kiss, just as light and meaningful as the first one. Dave brings a hand up to stroke his knuckles against Karkat's cheekbone, a smile tilting the corners of his lips up, the slide of their lips a little different because of it. 

"I'm yours, too..." He wants to kiss until his lips are raw and chapped. It's only immense effort that allows him to continue talking, his limbs starting to feel heavy and weak with giddy love for his boyfriend. 

The title doesn't give Karkat enough credit. 

"Just want you happy with me..." Don't say it, but the word is in his mouth, about to be pressed against Karkat's lips as well. "'m selfish, Karkat... I want all of you so much..." He cradles the back of Karkat's head with his hand, tangling his fingers into the thickness of it. 

"But I'll never want what you won't give me..." His voice is sinfully soft, he hopes his passion burns through it. "Don't force it, we'll figure it out..." 

Love you. Love you so much. I love you, Karkat. I'll love you forever, Karkat Vantas. I love you. 

He kisses Karkat again and again, trying to ingrain those words into Karkat without saying it.

Karkat lets Dave sweep him away with kisses, there’s nothing else to be done. He could drown in Dave’s kisses. He’s just about ready to abandon his own chair and crawl into Dave’s, when Dave’s words wash over him.

That voice of his is so soothing, so calming, in enraptures him every time Dave slips into that low murmur. It softens the blow of what Dave _actually_ says.

_‘I want all of you.’_

He goes stiff under Dave’s affections. Smearing a little pale into their flushed relationship was one thing… A dubious agreement at best. But _all of him?_ Is Dave not actually okay with Karkat seeing Dirk? Has he been pretending to be okay with it, and Karkat _didn’t notice_ he was upset? He’s usually pretty good at picking up on that kind of thing, so _what…_

Gently, he pushes against Dave’s chest, moving him far enough away to stop kissing, but not… actually wanting to go that far. He gives Dave a weary look. He had thought this was over, but apparently not.

“You know that I don’t hate you, right? Not at _all._ I don’t think I could ever give that to you if I tried. Are you…” He hesitates again, not sure if he wants to hear the answer to this question. “Are you not okay with me being with Dirk?”

His heart sinks, just thinking about it. His thoughts start to race, circling around the two Striders. If Dave says no, what the _fuck_ is he supposed to do? He couldn’t choose between them, he _couldn’t._

Please be a misunderstanding. Fuck, _please._

Dave is so lost in his own thoughts and in Karkat, that when Karkat leans back, his eyes remains closed and he breathes out, ready for when their lips meet again. 

A small, confused frown starts on Dave's face as Karkat sounds... not where they need to be. "Wha...?" He slits his eyes open to greet Karkat's weary gaze. Why is he not kiss-drunk...? 

He gathers his thoughts, looking back on his words. 

_'All of you.’_

God damnit, Strider, you can't say the right thing if you had the fucking manuscript in your hands. 

"No--" His hand finds Karkat's cheek again, giving him a quick peck because he really has no self-restrain., "Wow, no--" 

He pictures Dirk's chest in his head, all fucked up and scratched. All the bickering, the animosity, as playful as it might be. 

" _Yikes_ . No, uh-... Fuck, I was trying to be romantic, fuck. No, I... " Dirk cuddling Karkat, Karkat teasing him in turn, that playful grin on his face. "I might have gotten like, a _little_ jealous when I saw you cuddling but it was more like, wow I wanna get in on those snuggles. It was really fucking cute-" He _can't say the right thing to save his life it seems?_ "But no, god, I _definitely_ don't... Want that, I -... Fuck. I really do want to be red with you, I promise-..." 

He stares pleadingly at Karkat, a little clammy. He just wants to _snog the dude_ , how hard does this have to be? Well, he wants a lot more than that, so much more, but-... 

"I- I don't hate you either- of _course_ I don't, I -" love you love you love you " _want you in red more than anything_. And like, I also want us to cuddle and talk about shit because I care about you a lot- like- like we talked about, but- no, I..."

He hangs his head, groaning a little. "Sorry, ugh, I messed it up. I... I _accept_ all of you, but. As unromantic as it sounds, I guess I _don't_ want all of it..." The words almost hurt him, and he's not sure why, "I... think it's good you can find that in Dirk. I think it's good for Dirk too... I think..." 

He bites his lip. That might be it; he feels like a bad lover, saying he doesn't want all of Karkat. He'd... give him everything, should he ask it of him, but... The more he thinks about himself in Dirk's situation, the less he feels he wants it. 

Dave wants _this_ . Soft, gentle, loving. Passionate, intense. But never that intense challenge that seems to be between Karkat and Dirk. Never blood spilling, never anything that hurts- he'd never _want_ Karkat to rake those claws on him with the intention to hurt, and- and he's maybe sorta relieved he won't, unless he's being an exceptional shit, which might happen, but it won't be... _that_. 

With Dirk there to... share that, he.. he feels safer. It never felt forced to him, it didn't feel bad for him at any time the two of them have been dating Karkat. It's felt... Natural. Maybe that's weird, but he never properly felt at anything more than childish jealousy.

And now they've talked about that. 

"Okay, collecting my thoughts: I... care about you, I want you in red and-... and I want us to keep talking like before, and... I really don't mind that you're in spades with Dirk... It's..." Hot. Intense. A little scary. Relieving. Cute. "Good." 

He looks up to Karkat again, smiling nervously. "Are you... okay with that...?" He knows Karkat will be. He's pretty sure at least. It was just Dave and his huge fucking mouth messing it all up.

Dave is rambling again, falling back into that low tone, and Karkat’s eyes fall half lidded just listening to him. Dave says _red_ so many times, it makes his heart beat faster with each one. He’s getting closer and closer to Dave, leaning in without even realizing he’s doing it. He’s just _drawn_ to Dave and he can’t fucking help himself.

Hearing Dave confirm that he’s okay with his relationship with Dirk is really the last straw. He needs to be in Dave’s lap already.

“I’d love that, Dave…” he says, voice already melted, wanting. It leaves no more room for argument, sounding suspiciously like what he means to say is _‘I love you, Dave.’_

He slides off his chair and moves to finally straddle around Dave’s hips. This conversation is probably the longest they’ve spent in the same room together since they started dating without falling all over each other. He kisses Dave sweet and deep, licking into his mouth like he’s been waiting his entire life to do it.

No matter how many times they’ve kissed, every time feels like the first. It’s exhilarating, passionate, fills him up in just the right way. He had no idea how he managed to stay friends with Dave for so long _without kissing him_ every second of the day.

Well… there were a few times he _couldn’t_ resist. It’s not like they never messed around when they were still pale. It was different, though. Restrained. He was holding in too many feelings at the time, and apparently so was Dave. He’s so happy that he doesn’t have to do that anymore, that Dave is _his._ His matesprite. So red that it hurts.

His hands find their way up into Dave’s hair, holding onto him, kissing him with so much need. He arches into it, their chests pressing together. A purr is already starting up in his chest, rumbling, sounding so sweet. “Daveee…” he murmurs, vibrating with his purr, barely even a word in between their kisses.

Relief is like a drug hitting Dave's system, making his brain waver for a moment; they're kissing again, thank goodness. Karkat's tongue is heavy and thick in his mouth, and he swirls his tongue around it gratefully, hands gripping at Karkat's hips and a sigh moaning between them. 

He slides his hands down to feel at Karkat's thighs, then back up again, a helpless little chuckle smothered into their kiss. 

They're just utterly ridiculous, aren't they? So afraid to hurt each other, trying to be so careful... When in reality, they want the same thing, the exact thing. 

An ache twists in his chest, but it's an _amazing_ ache. An ache that says that Karkat loves _him_ back. How lucky is he, to have this beautiful man straddling him, wanting to kiss him like this, rumbling against his chest like an overgrown tabby... 

Oops, might no want to say that one to Karkat, hehe... 

"Yeah-... Karkat..." Love you love you love you love you-... 

"Aww, isn't that sweet." Dirk's voice sounds groggy, and a hand gently plants itself on the table not too far away from the two. 

He looks better and better by the day, really. Even the circles under his eyes are looking pretty good, which is actually unusual. 

"Sorry to interrupt your pre-canoodling, I was kinda expecting you to be making breakfast." Dirk looks pointedly at the time, then shrugs. "Lunch, whatever." He gives Karkat's head a small pat, then a ruffle. 

So that's how it feels, Dave thinks, being caught red-handed by your bro. Red steals over his face, but he takes it better than what Dirk did. He looks Dirk up and down; he has his go-out-polo on, shades firmly in place, only half-hiding his hella sweet tattoo.

"Goin' out...?" oops, his accent slipped. Dirk smirks knowingly. 

"Yeah... Roxy promised me a 'totally proper bfast', and how can I say no to that?" 

Obviously not interested in getting into antics with Karkat, he's about to pap Dave's head- he hesitates. Glances to Karkat. 

"Well, see you later, lil' bro. Kitty." 

Hmm. And he's out. That's... quick. But maybe it's because the two of them pretty much _are_ pre-canoodling. Ugh. With a shake of his head, Dave leans in and gives Karkat a decisive little kiss, not wanting this to stop simmering. 

"Let's continue on the couch...?"

The second he hears Dirk’s voice, Karkat bristles. Where Dave’s voice is soothing and hypnotizing, Dirk’s is grating and irritating. Spades flash in his heart briefly, but he stomps it down. This is _Dave’s_ time, he’s not going to let Dirk pull him out of the mood.

He glares at Dirk out of the corner of his eye, purr slipping into a growl and then abruptly stopping when Dirk ruffles his hair. He holds onto Dave tighter, like he’s afraid Dirk will take him away. He’d tell Dirk to fuck off, but he already seems pretty intent on leaving, so Karkat just counts the seconds.

And then Dirk is gone, and-- _hey._ That motherfucker didn’t give him a _kiss before he left._ Rude ass son of a bitch. Terrible boyfriend. He’s going to give Dirk an _earfull later,_ interrupting him and Dave and not even making it worth his fucking time. How _dare he_ not give Karkat a kiss. What the fuck.

Dave’s voice pulls him back in again and his eyes snap back to Dave’s face. He didn’t even realize he had been glaring back at the doorway, where Dirk had just left. It takes him a second to register the question.

“...He didn’t fucking kiss me,” he says, lips set into a deep frown now. Just _looking_ at Dave’s flushed face is enough to soften his edges, though. His frown melts into more of a pout, and he kisses Dave again before sighing. 

“I’d rather go to bed,” he says, rubbing the tip of his nose lightly with Dave’s. “I like kissing in bed, with you on top of me…” His fingers rub against Dave’s scalp, caressing him and keeping him close. He loves Dave’s weight on top of him, crushing kisses, so lost he can’t breathe. Why is he wasting time thinking about it when they could be doing it? 

Even though Dirk has half-destroyed the hot, molten, syrupy thing they were being building up to, Dave only feels somewhat amused and a pinch annoyed at being interrupted. 

It's just Karkat's face. How it furrows into something fierce and angry, how fully different he becomes with Dirk. It relaxes him further, tells him that yeah, they're gonna be okay. 

Even more so, when he looks back to Dave and _pouts_. Oh my god, he wishes he had his camera on him. Fuck, that's so cute. His cock twitches. God damnit..

"Aww..." His smile is probably all adoring and dumb. "You wanna go to bed...?" The smile warps into something a bit more predatory, hands slipping under Karkat's sweater to feel at the skin there. 

"I like it too, Karkat... Love it when you're sweet for me..." He knows it when Karkat's sweet with him of course. You don't know the dude for the better part of a decade and _don't_ know how prickly, angry, rash he can be. This needy side of him though... 

He could write poetry about his Karkat Vantas. 

"Well..." He slides his hands down under Karkat's butt, rocking forwards a little. "Hang on little spider monkey." Has Karkat seen Twilight? There's no way he hasn't. 

His muscles strain a little as he stands with Karkat still wrapped around his middle. With a small little 'hup', he hoists Karkat up further, a shiver running up his spine and down to settle warmly in his groin when their hips rub together. 

With somewhat faked ease, he strolls over to their bedroom- uh, _Dave's_ bedroom, all the while kissing at Karkat, hoping to soften him up again. 

When he eases Karkat down onto his bed, he simply follows so he's between Karkat's legs, fluffing up a pillow so Karkat's head will be tilting up _just_ so... 

And then, it's easy as anything to dive in for a deeper kiss, slowly lowering himself to put his weight on the troll, a hand slipping under his sweater to caress his grubscars. 

So good... Karkat is so _warm_...

The way Dave coos for him… The teasing little prod… The playful smirk… The _’sweet for me…’_ It’s painfully reminiscent of the way Dirk talks to him, and for a moment, Karkat is still stiff. It isn’t until Dave’s hands are on his ass, grinding into him just enough, that he starts to melt a little again.

His eyes go a little wide and he clings tighter to Dave when he’s picked up-- _fuck_ he forgets how strong Dave is sometimes. That Dave *enjoys* working out. It’s only a short walk to the bedroom, but by the time Dave lies him down, his heart is already racing again.

“Dave…” he whines, letting his head roll back against the pillow as Dave feels him up. His hands feel so good on his skin, fingers on his grubscars. He’s purring again in no time, arms wrapped around Dave’s neck.

He kisses him desperately, but it’s so slow and deep and _good._ It’s a different kind of desperate than he gets with Dirk. Like he can’t get close enough, deep enough, _intimate_ enough.

His thighs hug Dave’s hips, trying to close around him, holding him just as hard as his arms do. Dave’s weight on him is… exquisite. The length of his body, lining up perfectly with his own. Those _hands._ He can feel the heat rapidly spreading through his body, making him even warmer than he usually is. It pools together between his legs, the familiar tug of arousal making him dig his nails into his own arms.

He’s never been with someone who made him feel this way just from _kissing._ Instead of quick and rash and demanding, it’s slow and deep and _thorough._ It’s _flushed,_ it’s so red that he can hardly stand it. He could cry just thinking about how much he loves this.

And it’s doesn’t hurt that Dave is _good at it._ He can’t exactly complain about Dirk either, but between the two of them… Dave is definitely the better kisser. No contest. It takes his fucking breath away.

“You’re amazing…” he murmurs, eyes shut, lips so perfectly in sync with Dave’s.

_Finally_ , Dave feels Karkat melt under him, and he moans and lets his body weigh down on Karkat a bit more, deepening their kiss. 

"Yeah..." His own voice comes across as slightly whiny as well, but how can he help it when Karkat feels _so good_ under him, his hips pressing up at his needily, his purr starting up like a rumbling engine. 

Deciding that action is probably more in demand than words, he squirms a little to the side so his hand can smoothe at Karkat's stomach before sliding into his jeans, a sympathetic little moan escaping him as wetness meets his fingers. 

"You're already so wet..." He mutters it in awe into Karkat's mouth, surprised every time. That Karkat wants him as much as Dave wants him. It's insane. Still, while his body is _burning_ for him to get into action, he slows down, sliding his middle finger between Karkat's folds, sighing out another little moan, fingers trailing familiar traces over Karkat's sensitive flesh. 

With a soft grunt, Dave slips his hand out of Karkat's jeans and licks at his hand quickly before popping open the jeans; they're in the way, he could feel his blood flow stopping up. 

He dives his hand in again, now much easier to twist his hand and cup Karkat between the legs, rubbing slowly, insistently. 

"So warm... So wet..." He slides their tongues together in a sinfully provocative dance, his tongue replicating the slow twirling his finger does against underside of the slit for the bulge to come out of. 

"Mmfh..." He seals their lips together more, inviting Karkat's tongue into his own mouth, sighing out through his nose, arousal like a vice around his chest. 

How he gets through this every time, how he doesn't die from the overload of having Karkat like this, he'll never know.

Karkat arches into Dave’s touches, his breath caught in his throat. He tries to make a sound, but it comes out broken. The finger slipping against his nook is-- _god,_ it’s so fucking good. Dave must be feeling impatient today. Possessive, maybe. Did he miss Karkat that much while he was gone for _one night_ with Dirk?

It must be, because they usually make out for a lot longer than this, with simple touches, slow grinding, nothing but body on warm body and mouth on desperate mouth, before Dave even _thinks_ about touching him like this. Usually, sex is just the bonus to the kissing. A way to make it last even longer without their lips going completely raw. Nothing is ever quick with them, it’s slow and hot and dizzying.

And that all only makes _this_ so much better. It’s different and it’s _good._ “Dave,” he says again, but it’s higher pitched, tight with need. He gives a proper moan, long and sweet as Dave’s fingers find his nook for the second time. He lets his legs spread further apart, opening up so easily, so pretty for Dave.

He drowns in Dave’s kiss, so wrapped up in it that his own bulge coming out to wrap around Dave’s wrist shocks him. The wave of pleasure _actually shocks him_ as it curls tight, encourages Dave’s hand further down.

It makes him tremble, a forced break to their kiss as he sucks in a breath. He manages to crack his eyes, open, giving Dave a dazed, dreamy look. “Eager…?” he asks, and it’s a breathless thing, and honestly, who the fuck is he to criticize Dave? He’s just as eager. He’s just fishing for Dave to tell him how much he missed him.

He loves listening to Dave tell him how he feels. It makes his stupidly romantic heart burst, and Dave is so fucking good at it.

"Yeah-..." Dave feels like that's all he can say; yes to Karkat, yes to _this_ , yes to everything Karkat could ever throw his way. His mind is melting into yes, he's yes all over. Yes Man, that's him, ready to accept anything Karkat could think of presenting to him. 

He gapes a little in awe as Karkat opens up for him, his sweater riding up a little, his bulge wet and eager and _firm_ , wrapping around him and guiding him down as if it hasn't shown him the way for what he feels like is millions of times before. 

"I'm eager-... I'm eager for you, Karkat, oh my god..." He slicks their tongues together greedily, jittery with want, a soda can shaken. Maybe he should simmer, not let it explode right away, let it cool down. 

He knows he can't do it _properly_ , knows he'll always be bursting with these excited bubbles in him, about to brim over whenever Karkat's near, but he'll rein it in enough for Karkat to join him on the ride. 

"I want to kiss your whole body-" his voice is shaking a little as he breaks their kiss to say it. A soft squish as their lips meet, as Dave presses a finger into him, feeling at the way Karkat wets him immediately, copiously. "Want to show you much I-..." He's so fucking transparent, there's no way Karkat doesn't know how hard he's trying to keep those special words for something special, how he chokes them down, lets them sit there with the bubbles, sometimes making it hard for him to _breathe_ with the want of saying them. 

"How much I _care_ for you, I want you to feel me..." He slips in another finger, because Karkat is more than wet enough, and he dips in again for kiss after kiss, faster than normal sure, but nothing like Dirk, nothing as hurried or sharp or challenging. 

Karkat has already won. He must be aware of that, right? But being the loser is wonderful, if _this_ is supposed to be his punishment.

"You're so fucking gorgeous, Karkat... You're so..." he breathes out a soft little laugh and shakes his head, exasperated with himself. "So good... Everything about you..." _I accept all of you_ , wasn't that what he'd said? He'd never lie about that. 

He lets the bulge to its thing, but starts rubbing his fingers into Karkat's folds properly, seeking out those sensitive places he's mapped out for himself, made sure to note and hide inside himself like a treasure map. He slips his fingers back in again, breathing out into Karkat's mouth as he hears the obscene squelch it makes. He scissors his fingers more to hear the sounds Karkat's nook makes, eyes slitted open to marvel at Karkat's ruby eyes. 

Ruby eyes. Haha... Seems like he's already losing his grip.

Dave dances the same way he always does around what he’s really trying to say. It hurt Karkat at first, until he understood _why._ It’s not that Dave doesn’t love him back. It’s that he’s trying to find the right way to say it. Dave says… admittedly, a lot of the wrong things, all the time. He can understand that Dave wouldn’t want to fuck this up. 

So Karkat holds it back, too. He doesn’t say it. He holds it in, how fucking much he loves Dave. He’s sure that whatever Dave is thinking about will be worth it. Worth the wait… Worth the way he struggles over his words, when all he wants to say is _love._

He almost slips up, at times like this. Dave makes him dizzy, makes him swim with feeling and roll his eyes into the back of his head. Makes him forget that he’s waiting, waiting for Dave to say it first. He wants Dave to have that… he loves him so much, he’ll wait forever, as long as it makes Dave happy.

With two fingers inside him again, he whimpers and caves against the bed. His legs go tense, knees trying to close in around Dave’s hips again. It’s so little, but it’s _so much._ Dave has learned very quickly how to play him just right, and he doesn’t stand a fucking chance against it.

His hands shake as they move up Dave’s sides, pushing under his shirt. He feels up Dave’s back, skin searing hot under his palms. He bends his fingers, letting the tips of his nails touch flesh. He drags them gently, the way he’s learned that Dave likes. Hard enough to feel, but soft enough not to cut. It’s not easy-- but the way Dave hisses and bucks against him every single time is so fucking worth it. As good as Dave makes him feel, he wants to give it back times a hundred.

He hums and turns his head up, mouth pulling away from Dave’s with the move. “Kiss me, then,” he says, as his neck becomes exposed. He _loves_ when Dave worships him, that perfect mouth moving over his skin. Everything with Dave is always amplified, simple touches burning hotter than a star. A kiss to the cheek making his knees weak.

Predictably, Dave arches into Karkat's careful claws, a hint of a whimper in the moan coaxed out of him. He never knew they could know each other so intimately, and it shocks him every time when he feels the gentle rakes of Karkat's claws. It sets something _off_ in him, sets his cheeks aflame, makes his limbs weak. 

Then, it's like Karkat has offered him water. Gratefully, he gives Karkat a small kiss. A lick to the hollowness off the underside of his jaw. A kiss where his neck starts. He wets his lips, then kisses down his throat and towards his clavicle. Then back up. "Thank you... God, Karkat, thank you, thank you..." His voice is almost without sound, awed, grateful.

Every square inch of Karkat's body should be covered in his kisses, he thinks dizzily, making sure to keep up the loving thrusting and twisting of his fingers. The feeling of them, slick and wet with genetic material, easily slipping together as he plays with Karkat's nook is so exquisite. He wants to lay in Karkat's lap and _watch_ Karkat's nook while he fingers him.

Maybe another day. 

For now, he coaxes Karkat's body to follow him, to thrust against him needily, for Karkat to fuck himself as best he can on his fingers. His wrist feels a little numb with the strength of Karkat's bulge, and he sighs against Karkat's ear. 

"I'm imagining your bulge in me..." He doesn't say more, just planting that delicious image in Karkat's head, wanting him to think about it as he continues his ministrations. 

Even when he covers an area, he'll go over it again, changing between kissing, sucking and licking at Karkat's gorgeous skin, slowly making his way from Karkat's neck to his shoulders, to his pectorals... Sometimes he wonders if Karkat believes him when he says he could do this all day. 

He hopes he believes him. 

Almost cruelly, he knows he usually waits a little longer, lets Karkat build up easier, he presses in a third finger, moaning out with Karkat. "Mmhh..."

Everything is so _easy_ with Dave. Karkat lets the ‘thank you’ wash over him and sink into every pore on his body. There’s no struggle, no fight to see who can start begging first. Dave just… thanks him.

_Thank you, thank you, thank you…_

Each press of Dave’s lips against his skin buzzes with electricity. The cool air is a relief, as his shirt is bunched up under his armpits, and Dave’s mouth is extra hot by contrast. The third finger pressing into him is another shock, his hips rocking up into Dave’s hand against his will.

 _“Fuck,_ Dave!” he hisses. It’s not fair for Dave to talk about taking his bulge at a time like this, when Karkat is so full and so ready to Dave to fill him even more. As much as he wants Dave to fuck him, he’d do anything to make Dave happy, and if that means picking up and taking the lead then… he’ll do it.

He fights for control of his own body, doing his best to rip his hands away from Dave. The fingers in his nook are so fucking good, too good, so hot. His mind is turning to mush by the second, just thinking about Dave fucking him until he can’t get out of bed.

His bulge unwraps and wraps again around Dave’s wrist, clearly interested in the idea that it might have a hole to sink into. It twists and writhes, searching and finding nothing. Karkat’s elbows hit the mattress, and he tries to push himself up.

He can’t fucking _take it_ though, with three of Dave’s fingers in him. It makes his head spin, pleasure throbbing through him as he can feel his material sac nearing capacity. He’s _close_ already, fuck, they’re going so fast. Maybe Dave can wait until he cums once before--

“Can’t--” he tries to say, and it’s a wonder his arms haven’t given out under him. His hips rock with need, as if Dave isn’t hitting all the right spots perfectly well on his own. Loving, sexy little chirps cut through his purr, making his eyes slip shut again.

Dave holds up the sweater with his free hand, kissing down Karkat's chest and to one side, his tongue locating Karkat's lowest grubscar. He pays extra attention to the slight difference in skin-texture, tongue tracing the line of it, pressing soft butterfly kisses against the now wet skin before moving upwards. 

"You want that... I want it too, Karkat..." His voice is a hushed whisper, warm breath spilling over sensitive skin. "But I want to have you more... Want to feel you deep in here-..." He worms his fingers further in, sighing at the feeling of Karkat's canal getting tighter there. "Wanna feel you gush over my hand..." 

The wet, bubbly squelches from Dave's repeated thrusting is the loudest thing in the room, amplified in this quiet, reverent moment. He twists his hand a little so he can rub his thumb against the skin around Karkat's bulge, teasing that spot on the underside of his bulge, then _not_ teasing it, sliding the pad of his thumb against it in sure, firm circles. 

"So good... you're so good..." His own body is _burning_ , he wants Karkat so bad. But he knows that Karkat needs through this whole thing. He wants to see this to the end, and for that, he needs the advantage of Karkat having come once. 

"God, I can't wait to be inside you... I want to feel you all the way inside, baby, I want to feel you come around me..." He switches sides, suckling at the top grub-scar there, the hand holding Karkat's sweater up slipping a little so he can rub at Karkat's pectoral. 

"Let me see you come, baby, _please_..." He looks down to his soaked-red, imprisoned hand, licking his slightly raw lips. 

He thinks about a bucket, but nah. He has special sheets on for this. 

He loves seeing Karkat come around his fingers.

Karkat feels swollen, in every sense of the word. His lips are kiss swollen. His skin is hot, body alight with nerves. He feels _full_ with pleasure, of his own material, like he’s going to split open if he doesn’t find relief soon.

He gives up on trying to move, grateful when Dave tells him that he wants to be inside him. Fuck, he wants that too. He wants it so bad it’s making him crazy. The third finger pushing _so far_ up inside him, the rhythmic rubbing under his bulge, the mouth on his skin, the praises, _Dave…_ It’s all too much, only amplified by warm affection radiating off of Dave.

He’s clinging to Dave again, his hands gripping at him anywhere he can. It’s so quick, compared to normal, over too soon… but with an extra good press of Dave’s fingers, he falls victim to his first orgasm with a shudder.

It’s hot between his legs, so wet and _so much._ His legs don’t know how to react, caught between clenching down around Dave’s hips to keep him in, or falling open further for Dave to reach even deeper. His jeans cling to his skin with slick, and it makes him groan.

Why does he even bother to wear clothes when he’s here? Between Dave and Dirk, he’s ruined so many fucking outfits.

“Dave…” he pleads, mouth aching with emptiness. He needs those sweet kisses again, Dave’s lips to ground him through his aftershocks. 

Dave looks down to where his fingers are fucking into Karkat just in time to see red flood over his hand and onto the hyper-absorbent sheets, moaning out in delight. 

Even though he prefers to take it so slow time slows down, seeing Karkat lose it so fast is also immensely satisfying. Makes him feel like he's doing it right, and very so at that. He can make his boyfriend come as quick or as slow as he pleases, and isn't that just a wonderful thought? 

And talking about wonderful; though he doesn't quite let up his thrusting, loving the little twitches Karkat's hips give, the even wetter sounds being produced, he does lean up to give Karkat what he wants, slicking his tongue back into Karkat's mouth where it belongs, filling him in two holes perfectly. 

"Mmm...." Dave moans into the kiss wantonly, his dick so hard in his pants he's sure his boxers will rip any moment. 

He tries to tell Karkat how good it'll feel, how hard he is for him, but it's all muffled into their too sloppy, to pauseless, to passionate make-out to even make half sense. He grins into the kiss, his free hand cupping his own crotch, and he groans a little, eyes slipping closed a little, automatically starting to slow down again.

It should last forever, is the thing. When they get going he wants to slow it all down, make it last for as long as possible, have them as close as they can for as long as possible. Maybe it's his own brand of selfishness, but knowing that he got to have Karkat with him for hours on hours like this, sweet and soft and _his_ \-- and, sure, sometimes the other way as well-... 

It's paradise. 

Dave slips his hand up again to stroke through Karkat's hair, getting lost in the kiss again, fingers snug in Karkat's nook, though just moving back and forth a little, keeping the stimulation there even if it's just a little. 

Maybe it's Dave's delirious mind, but he feels like they're _communicating_ through the kiss. It feels so good, he can tell when Karkat swirls his tongue against his playfully, when he coaxes him in further, when he sighs out that whimpery, crooning little sigh and he wants a nip to the lips-... 

Hard-on forgotten, he goes into his little quiet place, where only he and Karkat are invited, feeling warm pleasure, want, chapped lips, and Karkat's body against his.

Karkat whines and chirps prettily for Dave, rocking down on his fingers even as his orgasm starts to fade. He loves that Dave doesn’t give him breaks, not a single change to recover or regain control of himself in between orgasms.

But it’s not… it’s not overwhelming, like it might be with someone else. Or like it definitely would be with Dirk. It’s that slow, broiling, simmering heat that just never quite turns all the way off. It’s so uniquely Dave, that Karkat would love it even if it didn’t feel so good.

It’s strange, though, that it’s still Dave’s fingers inside him and they still have all their clothes on. His pants are starting to chafe uncomfortably with how wet they are, and usually at this point, they’re moving things along. Today is _different_ it seems, in more ways than one. The quick start, the slow continuation... What is Dave doing?

He stuffs both hands into Dave’s hair, holding his head close as they kiss. He wants to grind up against Dave’s body, his hips, his _cock,_ but he can’t. Dave’s hand is still in the way. “Dave…” he breathes, cracking his eyes open just a little. “Pants…” he wiggles his hips a little, letting his legs fall open in an attempt to get the fabric to unstick from his skin. It doesn’t work.

Without waiting, he untangles from Dave’s hair and moves to start pushing his jeans and underwear down off his own hips. He won’t get very far, with Dave sitting between his thighs like that, but it’s a start.

Fuck, but Karkat is simply divine. 

When Karkat’s hands are buried in Dave’s hair, he moans in gratification, smiling in drunk satisfaction before it slips into something more teasing. Seeing Karkat eager never fails to pleasure him, and he pecks little butterfly kisses along Karkat's neck, giving his nook a couple extra squishy little twists of his fingers before pulling out. 

He considers helping Karkat to take off his pants, by the way Karkat whines, it's... So cute. And it's so sweet, seeing him all ready for his dick, so impatient. Dave's impatient too, but maybe he made Karkat impatient by slowing down again...? 

Interesting. 

Instead of helping Karkat out of his pants, he leans back enough for him to pull Karkat's leg from one side of himself to the other, patting it, moving Karkat to his liking so he's more on the side, still very easy to lean down at kiss at. 

With gentle but firm hands, he tugs at Karkat's pants just enough that his ass is exposed, squeezing a buttcheek, chewing on his lower lip before grinding his still clothed hard-on against Karkat's exposed ass and the bottom of his nook. 

"Maybe..." he breathes it out, his other hand coming up to stroke over Karkat's grubscars again, "we can do it like this today...?" He saw on a forum once, that human dicks hit a bit different from the side. Maybe it's an urban myth, but Karkat's legs collected like that, bent at the knees to accommodate him, his gorgeous torso twisted so he can look up at him... 

Yeah... That's kinda hot, actually.

Karkat doesn’t _care_ what position Dave wants to take. He kicks his pants the rest of the way off as Dave rolls him to the side. He huffs, he _notices_ what Dave is doing, he’s been slipping in and out of it this whole time, but he can’t be mad when Dave is grinding against him like that.

He takes a moment to collect himself, sucking in a breath, then gives Dave a look. It’s pointed, but not sharp. Never sharp with Dave. “You’re doing it again,” he says. It’s a subtle difference, but Karkat is nothing if not empathetic. He can tell that Dave missed him, from the way he moves, the way he touches him. But he can _also_ tell when Dave is being insecure, and acting like…

Like Dirk.

He’s pretty sure that Dave doesn’t do it on purpose. Again, it’s subtle, and probably no one but Karkat would ever notice. His voice isn’t warning or weary, just… a gentle reminder. For Dave to be himself.

Because Karkat loves Dave just the way he is. He doesn’t need to put on an act.

He finds one of Dave’s hands and fits his fingers between Dave’s, holding onto it tender and sure. He looks Dave in the eye and rubs a thumb over his hand. “Let’s keep going…” he says, quietly. Definitely needy. He’s far from done, and he knows Dave is, too.

The position is different, new. It makes it a little hard for him to properly grind back down into Dave’s unfortunately clothed hips, but he manages. His bulges squirms along the tops of his own pressed thighs, searching, starting to pry between them…

Oh…

He bites his lip again, giving another sweet little churrup. How did he never realize he could… do that? With his thighs? Okay, maybe Dave is onto something, Dirkish or not.

Dave immediately blushes and ducks his head bashfully. He _knows_ he does it, but he really can't help it sometimes- 

"Sorry, m-... sorry, Karkat..." He leans down kiss him, extra sweet and soft, his free hand smoothing at grey skin apologetically. "I -" Oh god, here comes the words; he gives Karkat's hip a little squeeze, a little 'feel-free-to-tune-out' signal. 

"I'm just really bad at dirty-talk, Karkat- you know that. Fuck, I start rapping, I somehow manage to mention at least _someone's_ hot mom, I start talking in metaphors, I'm straight up reciting one of Rose's dubious beast-books, or whatever it's called-" 

So fucking uncool. He feels a little like strangling himself on a pillow. 

"But yeah, _yeah_ , silence is Golden, silence is like. Top three metals. But like, number one among the three. Silver is glaring up at gold like, you fucking cheated you son of a bitch, but silver is actually on the rise again now, you know?" What the fuck is he talking about. "The point being, my bad. Zip goes my lips." 

He squeezes Karkat's hand back, looking down between Karkat's legs. Oh- that looks hot, his bulge slicking at his thighs and pushing between his legs. 

"Wow..." the breath is almost silent, but he's quick to pull down his pants, reluctant to move his hand away from Karkat's, so he doesn't, and he doesn't kick his own pants off. 

His cock is so hard he could cry. He's not really sure he's ever had a case of blueballs, but he's sure this is the beginning of it. 

"Can-..." He stops himself from the obviously copyrighted Dirk-Dirtytalk™️, going for something more him: needy. 

"Can I please put it in, Karkat...?" He rests his weight on to him, his hips going in contact with Karkat's, and he groans brokenly when hot, wet skin meets his erection. "God- ugh, please, you're so hot, fuck, I was supposed to keep my mouth shut... Ughh, okay, just answer this one, please..."

Karkat is so relieved when Dave starts to ramble at him, he almost laughs. He doesn’t _care_ if Dave is good at dirty talking, they don’t need that. He prefers when Dave is awkward, sincere, too sweet for words.

But then his nook _throbs_ again as Dave’s naked dick presses up against it. It makes him mewl and rock his head back into the pillow. His hand squeezes Dave’s, since… Dave didn’t let go. God, how fucking sweet. Dirk would never. Dirk _could_ never. Dave doesn’t need to act like that to make Karkat happy, he’s _perfect_ the way he is.

He does laugh then, breathless, shaking his head a little in disbelief. “I don’t want you to shut up… But I do want you inside me, so…” He rolls his hips down once, eyes fluttering closed again as the length of Dave’s cock presses between his folds. Another throb of pleasure rolls up his spine and makes his breath shudder.

He wants to reach for Dave, hold more than just his hand, kiss him, take anything he can get… But this position leaves him a little bit at Dave’s mercy. He’s really only got one hand to touch Dave with, and it’s occupied. He squirms a little, _wanting_ but not being able to have.

Relax, Karkat, it’ll be fine. Just because it’s new doesn’t mean you need to start crying about it. It’s going to be good. It’s… already good, with the way his bulge writhes and wedges between his thighs. He can just let Dave have this.

Just let Dave have it.

“Please…” he says again. It’s only been a few seconds, but he can’t wait anymore. He needs Dave inside him. “Want you…”

Dave _pants_. Karkat is so hot. He's so lucky he has Karkat, that Karkat for some reason finds his ramblings at least charming enough that his wriggly don't slither back in where it came from- 

Squinting his eyes, he finally presses into Karkat in a long, smooth stroke, sigh-whimpering as hot, wet walls squeeze at him, _milk_ him. He's "never felt anything better than you, Karkat, fuck you're so good, you're so _warm_ \- ah-..." he just wants to be inside Karkat forever, want to make Karkat feel good "All the time baby, want you help you come, want to be close to you-" 

He's not sure what’s his own messy internal dialogue and what he actually says to Karkat, but he knows he's saying _something_ . Karkat makes him lose his goddamn mind each and every time, and he doesn't even have to be _doing_ anything. 

Red-faced and starting to sweat, he leans back in to kiss Karkat, cut off his horrible need to voice his every thought, give them both some reprieve. For a long time he's just seated inside Karkat, feeling his nook work on him, trying to make his hard shaft _move_ as it most likely would if he was a troll. His hips grinds wetly against the troll, urged on and desperate to start slamming into him heedlessly. 

He ain't about that, though. Going too hard will make that narrow further into Karkat's nook ache, and he wants to open Karkat up more gently. Still, that restlessness in him is still there, simmering, begging him to keep on going. 

"Karkat-" it's a pleaded murmur into their kiss, his other hand continuing to rub at Karkat's grubscars, maybe a little more firmly than he usually does, "need to move, please-... need to ..." He breathes out heavily, putting some more power into his grinding. It's the _sounds_ that gets to him, the wetness between them slurping and squishing and bubbling as Dave stirs him up, "wanna make you feel good, you make me feel _so good_..." 

Dave is messy and he knows it... But Karkat thinks that's okay.

So, he guesses he's fine with that. He can be that for him.

Karkat melts as Dave slowly sinks into him. The sweet nothings Dave whispers into his ear make him weak, make his whole body hot. His purr only gets louder as his mouth opens up for Dave’s kisses.

And Dave _stops_ when he’s all the way inside, slowly grinding into him, working open those deepest, tightest parts of him. His nook squeezes and relaxes, spasms around the thick intrusion. It’s _so good,_ and it _doesn’t stop._ He can feel himself filling up again already, tremoring with each pet over his grubscars.

His bulge sinks between his pressed thighs, overly excited by Dave’s begging to move. Mm, Dave begging him to move… So sweet. So hot. Fuck, what would he do without Dave?

“Y-yeah…” he stammers out. He nods his head, once, twice, too many times. He chases Dave’s kisses, squirming with the incessant press of Dave’s cock inside him. He can feel himself leaking all over them, wetter and wetter by the moment. It’s filthy, it’s all for Dave.

All for Dave….

“Please move,” he whines. As good as Dave feels stuffed inside him, he probably won’t cum this way. _Probably._ They haven’t actually tried. As long as they usually draw things out, it _does_ typically end with Dave fucking into him. Might be something fun to try, if he and Dave ever learned how to control themselves.

"Okay- yeah, okay-, thank you, fuck," Karkat's purr vibrates into Dave, and knowing that Karkat is feeling so good is better than any kind of porno. He _did_ this, made Karkat so soft and pliant, made his insides tighten and soften around his shaft in a clear invitation to go _ham_. 

Slowly, he pulls out, loving the way Karkat's nook suckles at him, begs for him to stay inside, fill him up. He's asked Karkat before, if it was uncomfortable for him to have a hard dick in him instead of a bulge. 

It's a miracle he didn't die from arousal when Karkat said he's actually started to prefer it over time. During late hours of the night, Dave has gotten off to the thought of Karkat's nook reshaping itself to take Dave's cock perfectly. 

Groaning, he sinks himself back in, and he kisses Karkat a little harder. Holding back from hammering into Karkat takes _willpower_ , and he exhales into Karkat's mouth heavily. 

Slowly, so slowly he almost can't feel the friction with Karkat's wetness making his path sloppy wet, he starts fucking him, and he moves his hand down to press a thumb right over the slit of karkat's nook, feeling the way that thin, sensitive skin drags back and forth with the slow thrusts. 

The back of his hand meets Karkat's bulge where it's thrusting between Karakat's legs, and he gasps in aroused surprise. 

"Oh-... Are you- with your thighs...?" He doesn't stop, he doesn't know if he _can_. "Want me to- with my hand instead...?" He teases the tip of the bulge with his fingers, flicking the tip this way and that askingly.

Dave’s _thank you’s_ pour into Karkat and fill him up almost as good as Dave’s cock does. It’s so lewd, the way his nook closes and pulls around Dave as he slides out. How easily his walls open back up to let him back in.

His body is so used to it at this point, the solid stretch of human dick, he’s not… he’s not actually sure if he could properly enjoy a bulge anymore. It’s been so long since he’s had one, and it doesn’t look like he’s going to again any time soon. So does it even matter? He’s got everything he needs, right here in this home.

He can’t get enough of Dave’s kisses. His purr is steady and deep, sweet and low. He chirps with need when Dave stops kissing him to talk. “Mmm… No, ‘s good… tight…” he mumbles, trying to chase Dave’s mouth with his own. His thighs actually feel _great_ around his bulge, he’s still reeling from how good it is. Combined with how deeply Dave’s cock scrapes inside him…

He whimpers, squirming with everything he’s feeling. It’s slow again, slow and so fucking good. The gradual build of pleasure is just… it’s… How many different ways can he think about how much he loves Dave before he’s forced to say it out loud?

It’s so _hard_ to keep it in, but he wants Dave to have it. He’d do anything for Dave, no matter how much of a struggle it is. Even when Dave himself is the one pushing him to break.

“...want you like this forever…” he says instead.

"Oh-... I - I want you like this-- forever too-... Fuck, you're so fucking romantic Karkat-" Nooo, he doesn't want that to sound sarcastic or something- it's so damned sweet, so nice, he wants to just gobble Karkat right up- 

"I mean it, you're so-... So perfect, you make everything perfect by being here, shit dude, you're so warm insi-de, ah-" 

Dave squeezes his eyes shut, but has to open them again cause he can't miss looking at Karkat like this, faces close. To be able to see him succumb to the pleasure _he_ brought on to him... The pleasure he feels from being inside of Karkat, with Karkat, _anything_ Karkat is... Indescribable. 

So good he could cry. 

"So lucky to have you- some kind of- miracle, or -... dunno what I did to deserve someone as good as you, Karkat, fuck-" He's just rambling on about how much he loves him _without_ using that special word; if he didn't say _anything_ he's sure he'd fucking combust.

Carefully, Dave's hand finds the tip of Karkat's bulge peeking between his thighs again, and he plays with it, his finger circling around it and pressing at it experimentally.

"Feel good, baby...? Mm you gonna come again soon...?" He kisses at Karkat's cheek, up to his eye, to his forehead, up to his horn, giving it a soft little lick. 

He doesn't really know what it does, but Karkat likes it _sometimes_. Might as well experiment.

Karkat can’t even complain as Dave slips back into the Dirk-esque sweet-talk. It’s drowned out in the very _Dave-esque_ ramblings of love that preceded it. 

Dave loves him, _Dave loves him,_ even if he won’t say it, and that makes him shudder just as much as the fingers toying with his bulge.

It warms his heart and spreads through him like an oil fire. He feels so fucking good, so good, his muscles all contract at the same time because it’s _too much,_ and his body can’t take it. He can’t even stutter out a response before his second orgasm is washing over him.

He gasps Dave’s name, going tense, then lax, then tenses up again as wave after wave of genetic material spills around Dave’s cock. His nook all but sucks Dave up inside him, squeezing around his cock, trying to keep it inside. He grinds his hips in earnest, trying to get all those sweet spots rubbed on inside himself.

He pushes one hand up into Dave’s hair, grips at it tenderly, pulls him in to drown himself in a kiss. Even as his orgasm slowly ebbs back down, the high doesn’t stop. He never wants it to stop. Love swims through his veins and makes him want to scream. Cry. Hold Dave against him and never let go.

It’s hotter than anything Dave could ever do to him with his hands.

His purr is loud in his own ears. Dave’s tongue is so, so sweet in his mouth, and he’s dizzy with desire. “Dave…” he whines again, asking. It’s unclear what he’s asking for, but as long as it’s Dave giving it to him, it doesn't matter.

Dave gasps with him when Karkat comes; feeling his nook suckling at him like a mouth begging to be fucked will always be deliciously weird and erotic. 

It's no surprise when he's pulled down for another kiss, and it's even less surprising when Karkat doesn't tell him to stop. If there's one thing he's figured from dating a troll, it's that their stamina and libido is pretty much unparallelled. 

Not that he's complaining; Dave's found that overstimulation is definitely a ticket he'll be buying a lot when it comes to their sex-life. It's addiction, the way he feels he _has_ to keep going, how his dick _hurts_ when Karkat begs him to keep going when he's already spent. 

That being said, he's surprised he didn't come when Karkat did; he wants to wait. wants to feel Karkat melt further, wants to feel him approach that final cliff. He wants to push Karkat over that edge, then jump in after. 

Dave would say all of that aloud, had he not been so desperate for Karkat's mouth on his. He feels Karkat's vibrating purr against himself, racking up so much in volume he felt for a moment like he was fucking a massage-chair. 

Hot, Dave, really. 

"Yeah, Karkat-... _yeah_ , uhhn." Maybe he should have come when Karkat did, cause he's so close now. Sweat is dripping from his forehead and into his brows, his upper lip damp, though maybe that's just their shared spit. "What do you want baby? Tell me, 'll give you- 'll give you anything-..." 

Feeling like he's threading a fine line, he continues pushing into Karkat, going a little harder. Not because he feels any less soft, but because his body _demands_ it.

He sighs sweetly into Karkat's mouth, mewling softly, "I'm so close to coming- don't wanna come yet, wanna come with you, Karkat- _oh_ shit-" His hand is still playing a little with Karkat's bulge, but it's distracted. His other hand is holding him balanced, right next to Karkat's head. 

Biting his lower lip, he whimpers- fuuuck, if only he can hold on until Karkat joins him…

Karkat shakes his head, back and forth with determination. He clings to Dave, hard pressed to stop kissing him long enough to speak. He groans with the effort it takes, only managing to pull away enough to tuck his forehead back into Dave’s shoulder.

“D-don’t hold it back…” he says. His nails start digging lightly into wherever he can grab onto Dave. “...want to feel it… your cum in me… Please, Dave,” he pleads. There’s nothing better than that feeling, as Dave continues to fuck the cum deeper into him.

He’s well on his way to having another orgasm, _already,_ damn, but Dave just… has that effect on him he guesses. And nothing pushes him there faster than knowing that a part of Dave will be left in him. He shudders just to think about it.

"Ohh fuck-... Oh god, Karkat's that'ssohotohfuckyoucan'tdothattome--..." He leans down so he's now being balanced on his elbow instead of hand, speeding up slowly. 

"You can't tell me that, Karkat, that's so- ahh, _god_..." He hunches over Karkat, laying his weight on him, feeling his lovers' hot breath on his shoulder and neck. 

So close. Dave feels that scorching heat in him trailing down to his _toes_ and back up, hips moving almost entirely on their own, "I'm gonna come, Karkat- oh _shit_ , Karkat you're so perfect, I--" He bites down on his lip, forcing himself to swallow that word one final time. 

With a strangled moan, he slams home and comes as deep inside Karkat as he possibly can, shaking as the strain in him finally snaps. " _AAh..._ " He pants onto Karkat's chest, hand moving from Karkat's bulge and up so that he can hug Karkat, most of his weight on him now. 

Knowing full well that Karkat _loves_ having Dave's come inside him like this, he ruts his hips, even though it makes small twinges of slight discomfort in him. He likes it too, knowing that Karkat _craves_ this, wants this from him.

For a second… just a _second..._ Karkat is upset that Dave won’t say those last few words. He wishes that Dave would just say it, so that _he_ could say it. There doesn’t seem to be a point in waiting, and he’s so close to cracking, but--

But then Dave is filling him up exactly the way he asked of him, and how could he stay mad? That sticky white spills deep into his nook, and it makes him groan long and deep.

And Dave keeps _fucking it into him_ and it’s so good, he can’t stand it. “S-so deep-... inside…” he whines. His own purr stutters, fighting with moans and little desperate chirps. “Fuck, Daaave--”

His bulge fucks more desperately between his thighs. It squirms and wiggles and reaches for Dave’s fingers, unable to really reach. It’s torn between wanting to wrap around them and curl into the heat of his own tight thighs.

It goes on like this forever, for too long, not long enough. Too soon, he’s straining around his next orgasm, shaking with it. He whines Dave’s name again and lets his nook pull extra tightly around Dave’s cock. 

He doesn’t want this to end… but he knows Dave won’t be able to take much more.

Dave whines back in response as Karkat unravels for him _again_ , reveling in the sounds Karkat makes for him. It's so... _needy_ , the way Karkat clicks and chirps and purrs at him- it makes him feel so _loved_ , so appreciated...

As much as Dave wants this to continue, how he feels like honestly, he could do this forever, his human physique stops him, demands for him to not continue. He groans weakly, blinks slowly.

Unable to keep thrusting but wanting to give Karkat as much as possible, he lays on his side behind him, cock still hard inside of him but softening, arms wrapping around him firmly. 

"Sssshit, Karkat.... Ughh, that was so good..." I love you I love you- _ughh_ , shut up, brain! 

"Wanna be with you forever..." He nuzzles against the short hair on the back of Karkat's neck, kissing at it with swollen lips, feeling the hair tickle against them. 

Dazedly and a little clumsily, he grabs for the blanket, pretty much just laying it over them both so they won't get cold. Not that they need it, with Karkat's body temperature.

"Best matesprit."

Karkat sighs as Dave settles in behind him. The way Dave’s body presses perfectly up against the length of his back is perfect. The arms around him are perfect. The cock still carefully left inside him is… perfect. Dave is perfect.

The moment is… almost perfect.

His heart aches just enough to make him furrow his brow. He knows that Dave wants to make the first love confession special… he _knows that,_ but… how much longer is he going to have to wait?

He wishes he had a moirail to talk to about it.

He closes his eyes with another soft sigh. He’s glad that Dave can’t see his face. And, despite the hollow ache, he’s glad that Dave is here with him anyway. There’s nowhere he’d rather be.

He brings one of Dave’s hands up to kiss his knuckles, then continues to hold it. He says a soft good night and tries not to think about what he’s missing.


	11. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk buys Karkat a present and surprises him at work.

It’s a Saturday night, and Karkat has apparently drawn the fucking short stick, because he’s been left to rot with the closing crew on the longest night of the goddamn week.

Karkat  _ hates _ closing shifts. Not only does it feel like he’s here all god damn fucking day, but there’s less  _ staffing _ which means  _ more customer service. _ He’s been talking to customers all fucking night and he’s going to kill the next motherfucker who says to him: “Ummm, this was supposed to be iced!”

It’s five minutes to close, which means he’s got thirty five minutes left in this hellscape. At least the last thirty will be spent silently cleaning.

Aahh, to disrupt Karkat's workflow. Dirk's favourite pastime. 

He's been waiting outside Karkat's shop for a while now, seeing more and more people ebb out of the store. Fuck, look at that funky little dude, doing his thing. Karkat has rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and it fills Dirk with  _ some _ kind of feeling. Karkat has nice arms. 

Annoyed with himself, he shakes his head lightly and slips on his shades. Time to get douchey. Suave but douchey. The perfect amount of annoying that Karkat won't immediately kick him out. 

Okay, so probably just seeing Dirk at his work will be enough to send him into a hissyfit, but it's almost closing-time and Dirk has  _ plans _ . 

So when it's five to, he comes in, hand feeling at his sideburns to check that they're in mint condition. 

"'Scuse me, can I get some service over here..?" 

There's few enough people here that he doesn't bother lowering his voice. Just smirks that little smirk of his that he knows sends Karkat into bristling-mode. 

"I'd like one tired kittycat, please. Extra hot, grumpy." 

He smirks a little wider, leaning onto the counter, taking in his appearance. Man, he rocks that apron. Look at those  _ arms _ , he can't get over that. His nails. Wait, did he file them? He totally filed them. That's sweet. Probably because Dave always pouts over the cuts Karkat leaves him. 

Dave sure complains about the weirdest of things. That cute little fucker. 

No, stay on task. His lil' horns peeking out. His eyes widening before squinting in annoyance. Score. 

"I know it's close to closing-time, but I think you can fix me one of those, right? Whip'em right up." He makes a small 'whoopishh' sound, smothering a little chuckle.

A coworker raises their eyebrow at Karkat, trying and failing to keep the laughing grin off their face.

_ Really? _ Dirk is going to call him that bullshit nonsense in public?

He slides his eyes over to the drink he just finished making thirty seconds ago. He saw Dirk’s car sitting in the parking lot, and thought it would be nice to have a hot drink waiting for his boyfriend when he came in.

What a gaping load of shit.

He grabs it, nearly fucking spilling it in the proocess. He shoots his coworker a glare, and then Dirk. If looks could kill.

He rounds the counter begrudgingly shoves the drink into Dirk’s hands. He doesn’t bother to tell him how he carefully picked a custom recipe that he thought Dirk would like the best. What a waste of time.

“You’re a piece of shit,” he mutters. It’s a fact, but that fact isn’t going to stop him from getting a hello kiss. He’s still mad at Dirk for not kissing him goodbye a few days ago, and he’s not going to let Dirk live it down. He’s made it very clear since then that Dirk is expected to kiss him hello and goodbye every time they see each other, and that really isn’t too much to fucking ask, is it?

No. It’s not.

So after kissing Dirk, he gives him another pointed look. “Take a fucking seat and leave me alone. We’ll be here for a while still.”

He’s still got work to do, so he walks away then, but he glares over his shoulder for a few extra moments as he goes, little spades flickering in his eyes. He shrugs it off, though, and makes his way around the cafe to  _ politely _ tell these rude, loitering assholes that they’ll be closing soon and they need to leave.

When they’re gone, he locks the door and makes his way back behind the counter.

Happy with both his hello-kiss and the warm drink in his hands, and not to mention how fucking prissy Karkat is from the get go, he takes a slow sip, watching Karkat bustle about, shooing out customers. 

Seeing Karkat trying to  _ not _ murder people this late in the evening is practically entertainment. 

"This is pretty dang good, kitten. Could've been a little warmer I guess, but I know you have some trouble with that..." He smirks into the cup as Karkat walks by him; he hasn't sat down, mostly because he wants to talk to Karkat more. 

He raises a brow at Karkat's co-worker: do they  _ really _ need to be here..? They're kind of hashing his mellow. 

Rolling his eyes (hidden by his shades), he leans onto the receiving counter, humming a little, "I'm sensing some bad vibes coming from you, kittycat. Had a rough day..? Shoulda told me, I'da been here in a moment, kept you company..." He grins, imagining how  _ that _ would've gone. 

"Want me to help you clean up  _ baby _ ? Sweetcheeks?" He's practically grinning at this point, " _ honey _ ." He whines it, wanting Karkat's attention now, please. He has  _ news _ , after all. 

He looks directly at the co-worker, facial expression cooling considerably, "I think you can just go, really..? I'll help'im with the cleanup. You seem free anyway." 

He wants Karkat alone with him already.

The compliment on his drink warms Karkat a little (he  _ knew _ Dirk would like it), but Dirk immediately ruins it by continuing to have his mouth say more words. Even if he  _ is _ using that weird, sweet, human southern accent. It’s not charming enough to warrant the harassment to his coworker, though.

Karkat sighs, this time giving his coworker an apologetic look before shooting an irritated one at Dirk. “You’re being an asshole, leave them alone. We have work to do, so if you wouldn’t mind shutting your fucking trap for three seconds?”

He ignores Dirk’s offer to help. It would be nice to have a third set of hands to sweep and mop the cafe while they get everything taken care of behind the bar, but that’s not how jobs work. Dirk isn’t an employee, and Karkat is a  _ good _ employee, so he can do his own fucking work.

Even if he hates mopping.

His coworker heads into the back room, to start running the water to do diskes. Karkat busies himself taking apart the espresso machines, dumping out pitchers of iced tea, collecting things that need to be washed. Most of the closing duties are actually just… washing the dishes. So really, he and Dirk will unfortunately be alone together anyway, for the most part.

And Dirk is nothing if not _ distracting. _ And Karkat knows this, and his first instinct was to lock himself in the back room with the dishes so Dirk couldn’t bother him, but… that meant subjecting his coworker to Dirk’s incessant onslaught of bullshit, and he just couldn’t do that in good conscience.

He does his best to look  _ extremely _ busy in the hopes that Dirk will leave him alone.

"Hmmh..." Dirk gives the co-worker a last little look, far from interested in starting a discussion about  _ that _ . 

Once the guy is gone, Dirk seems to relax considerably. After making sure the co-worker isn't going to burst in every five minutes for something, he flips his shades up, a clever little smile playing on his lips as he sees Karkat trying very hard to pretend he's too busy for him. 

"Hey. Heeyy..." He leans against the receiving-counter again, putting on his best ironic puppy eyes, all special like for his favourite hatemate. Get him all mellowed up. 

"Service here is horrible... The kiss I received was lukewarm at best. I heard y'all had a policy that at every greeting and departure, only the best of kisses is accepted...? I'm gonna have to complain to your manager..." 

He puckers up his lips, the corners of them still tilted up. "Unless you fix the mistake right now...?" 

Who would have thought he'd actually be doing this a mere month ago? Part of him is absolutely floored, but another part of him just thinks it's right. If he couldn't bother  _ Karkat _ , who  _ could _ he bother, you know? Despite quadrants being hella confusing, being in spades with Karkat in itself is... like breathing. It's so fucking easy. 

Just as easy as he hopes Karkat to be tonight. 

He squishes his lips together more, making little kissy-noises at him.

Karkat gives an exaggerated sigh and tries to keep ignoring Dirk, but… well, how is he supposed to ignore such an objectively cute request for a kiss? And that stupid smushed face?

He wonders if Dirk knows exactly what he’s doing or not. If he knows exactly how weak Karkat is for the romantic shit. It could be  _ dangerous _ if Dirk knew.

Karkat can never tell him.

He huffs in forced annoyance and stomps his way over to where Dirk is standing. “You’re making a really ugly face,” he says. Despite the way he’s frowning, though, he still leans across the counter to give Dirk another kiss. He can’t resist it.

He lets it linger for several drawn out moments, grateful for the few feet of counter space keeping them apart. If he could press up against Dirk, he probably wouldn’t stop. But he’s  _ busy. _ He’s on the clock and he has shit to do.

When he finally pulls away, he flips Dirk off and scowls at him. It’s overkill, but he needs to do it for his own sanity. He can’t let Dirk distract him yet. “I seriously have to get this shit done, don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

He grabs a broom and comes around the other end of the counter to start sweeping under tables.

"Mmh.." He smiles cheekily into their kiss, tucking a couple of locks of hair behind Karkat's ear. "Didn't know you liked ugly faces." 

Dirk melts a little more into the counter, taking another slow sip of his coffee; seriously, how does Karkat even know he likes this specific syrup? He always pretends to be a black coffee kinda person. 

"And well, if you're so  _ busy _ , I guess you don't wanna know about the lil' present I have waitin' on you at home, huh..." He looks to the side innocently, though his growing little smirk is telling. "Was kinda lookin' forward to seeing your face." 

It had taken him a long fucking time to get shipped too. Intergalactic toll is a bitch, not to mention he had to get a proper vendor who he could trust not to sell him shitty equipment. 

Worth it, though. Man, how Karkat managed to hide that Alternia had a whole fucking world of alien sex toys, he will never even fucking understand. From the look he gave Dirk when he'd let it spill, almost three weeks back, it hadn't really been on purpose. 

Another one of those 'I'm totally integrated with human culture now, I'm practically a human myself!' bullshit ideals, probably. Man, what a fucking waste. He'd looked so uncomfortable, gotten all squirmy and pouty...

Karkat probably doesn't even know if he misses bulge or not. This is the least he can do, really. 

Dirk watches Karkat sweeping the floors with hooded eyes, jutting his ass out all impudently, wanting Karkat to notice how nice his ass looks in these jeans. Maybe he'll come over if he's tempted enough. 

Man, thinking about it, those instructions were just  _ hell _ to read. He thought Japanese was a difficult language to master, but alternian has all these  _ caste pronouns _ , and they're all... Yeah, he might have gone a bit overboard with the research, but it was  _ worth it _ . 

This is gonna be so fucking worth it.

Karkat is about to bite out a response about how he doesn’t give a fuck what Dirk has at home, but his coworker coming back up from the back room stops him.

He presses his lips into a thin line, agitated. He focuses squarely on the same spot on the floor he’s been sweeping, refusing to look up at them while they put a few things away. Man, he’s glad that they didn’t come out when he was… being affectionate.

With that pompous asshole at the end of the counter. Sticking his ass out like he actually has an ass to look at. So fucking irritating.

When his coworker disappears again, he lets out a tense breath and stops sweeping for a second. His annoyance flickers out when he realized what Dirk actually said to him.

He has something for Karkat at home? He set something up in advance? Just for Karkat? To surprise him? Because he thought Karkat would like it?  _ Because he was thinking about Karkat? _

Because he  _ hates _ Karkat?

His heart rate picks up just a touch and he tries not to let it show on his face. He keeps sweeping, pointedly not looking in Dirk’s direction. He can already feel the first licks of arousal pooling in his gut.

He wants to kiss him again...

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that great,” he says. Dirk’s never gotten him a present before. His curiosity is going to get the better of him, fuck, he wants to know what it is. 

Play it cool, idiot, don’t let him know you’re excited. 

He can’t help glancing sideways in Dirk’s direction, though.

“What is it, some new video game for me to kick your sorry ass in? You shouldn’t have.”

When Karkat's coworker comes bustling in, Dirk sighs a little and closes his eyes, not wanting to put his shades down but not wanting to make eyecontact with'em either. Way to ruin the mood,  _ co-worker.  _

He shares a tensebreath out with Karkat as they leave again, and he opens his eyes to look at Karkat again. Smirks as Karkat seems to actually process that yeah, Dirk has a lil' somethin' somethin' for him, and yeah, it's gonna be fuckin'  _ good.  _

Karkat doesn't even _ know  _ how good it's gonna be. But Dirk does, and his smirk widens again. 

"Oh, it's great, alright. And it ain't a whimpy lil' game you can cheat your way to winnin'." His drawl comes out clearer than it has in a while. He's excited. "I am  _ real _ fuckin' sure you can't guess what it is, but I'mma give you the heads up and say you're gonna fuckin'  _ love  _ it." 

A little disappointed Karkat hasn't even  _ tried _ smacking his pert ass, he pretends to stretch a little, jutting it out even further, taking another sip at his coffee. "But oh, you're  _ so busy, _ I shouldn't keep you all fuckin' occupied." Insert eyeroll here, "How's your day been, kitten?" 

He wants to kiss him again... 

Dirk's tongue comes out to wet his lips briefly, his dick half-hard in his jeans. It's kind of incredible how aroused he can be, just listening to Karkat bitch. He wonders if Karkat is becoming moist in his pants, imagining whatever it is he thinks Dirk's got in store for him. 

He hopes he is.

The thicker Dirk’s accent gets, the faster Karkat’s heart beats. That only ever means two things; that Dirk is trying extra hard (ironically?) to be cute, or that he’s excited and he can’t help it. Most people can’t tell the difference, but in this case, it doesn’t actually matter. Dirk is trying to get him riled up either way.

And it’s working.

What is it that Dirk is so positive that Karkat will love? At this point, it doesn’t even  _ matter _ because the sentiment alone has Karkat ready to soak through his jeans. He does  _ not _ need his bulge wiggling out while he’s still working, can it at least wait until he gets in the car??

He doesn’t answer Dirk right away, trying to clear his head and force his arousal down. Focus, Karkat, try to figure out what’s got him so irritatingly cocky. He thinks back, trying to remember if he’s given Dirk any hints about something that he wants.

He comes up empty. Dirk already pretty much gives him everything he wants. Even if it’s a pain in the ass, or Dirk makes a big huff about how needy Karkat is, or whatever the fuck. He still usually gets what he wants.

Wow, is he spoiled...?

He narrows his eyes and shoots Dirk another look. It’s a mixed look, unsure, angry, loving. Stupid horrible great kismesis. Who does Dirk think he is, treating Karkat so well??

Maybe he should throw Dirk a bone. The cafe is swept anyway and Karkat is pretty much only pretending to keep sweeping at this point.

He leans the broom against one of the tables and makes the short walk to where Dirk is standing. He worms his way in between Dirk and the counter and wraps his arms around Dirk’s waist, pulling his ass in from being all jutting out and impudent or whatever to press their hips together. 

He stays like that, hugging around Dirk, with one of each of their thighs stuck between each others legs to be closer. And also to feel… is Dirk already getting hard? Karkat’s heart leaps again, and this time it’s extremely hard to stamp his own arousal down. Fuck, Dirk is the worst. So many buttons, always being fucking  _ pressed. _

He gives Dirk a kiss on his cheek and tries to look unimpressed. “Obviously my day was shitty, I was stuck here all night. I think I have a few frustrations I need to work out, and your dumb ass isn’t helping. I should have locked you outside until I was finished.”

…

He doesn’t meet Dirk’s eyes. He doesn’t want Dirk to know he’s  _ winning.  _ Still, he wants to know. Maybe it’s not even that great and he can go back to working without interruption. “...what did you get me?”

"Oof-.." He grins excitedly as he suddenly feels Karkat wriggle his way between him and the counter, his almost-silent chuckle jostling them both as arms are wrapped around him. 

Their hips pushing together ends his chuckle with a breathless little 'nnh', and he leans his elbows on Karkat's shoulder, cup still in hand. 

"Knew you couldn't resist my ass in these jeans." Five points to him: his ass is  _ great.  _ He's been doing squats. His words comes out drawling but slightly higher than usual, now obviously excited: both from the way his eyes are slightly rounder than usual and how his dick twitches in his pants. Both very subtle Strider-cues, of course. 

Dirk looks down at his boyfriend (hatemate feels easier to say, but boyfriend feels very good too), orange eyes squinting a little with the force of his sly grin, and he gives off a luxurious sigh as he hugs Karkat around the neck, planting a soft kiss to his lips, enjoying how despite how hard his favourite troll tried at pretending to be busy, he's now here in his arms. 

Winning. 

"Mm... Secret." He grins so hard his dimples show, and he gives Karkat's plush lips a lick, nibbles at his lower lip deceivingly gently. 

His hips rock into Karkat's thigh in an unhurried little rhythm; he's riding on a high, and he knows it'll only get  _ better _ from here on. "You'll have to come home to find out..." He gives Karkat a fake pout, an 'aww, that's horribly sad, too bad for you". 

"But I've been thinking about it aaall day. Couldn't work on  _ anything, _ baby kitten... Only you, and that wonderful lil' present I got waitin' for you.."

Dirk wants to start mauling at Karkat's neck, but he wants to tease Karkat  _ more.  _ Hard decisions needs to be made in this life, but Dirk has his priorities  _ hella gay. _

Karkat frowns now, and maybe it's a pout, but he won’t admit it. “You really aren’t going to tell me? You come in here and start bragging about some amazing present that probably actually sucks and then won’t _ tell me? _ Why didn’t you just wait then? Prick.”

He starts trying to squirm back out of this tangle he’s gotten himself into, but he half expects Dirk not to let him go.

But does he want Dirk to let him go? 

Images of Dirk pushing him down over the counter play through his mind before he can stop it. Coffee flavored kisses. Grinding between his legs. Telling him  _ ’be patient, kitten.’ _ That unfairly sexy smile. Hands that refuse to touch.

His eyes start to get that glaze to them.

Fuck.

Denial really is the worst thing Dirk could ever do to him.

The back door swings open again and startles Karkat into actually scrambling away. Mop, he needs to _ mop still.  _ His coworker either doesn’t see the two of them or pretends not to notice, thank god, as they continue to put away more clean dishes.

Karkat gets the hell out of here before Dirk can get him to stop. He heads to the back to gather his supplies, ans takes a second to  _ breathe _ while his mop bucket fills with water.

God damn, he was so fucking close to somewhere he wasn’t ging to be able to come back from. His bulge throbs uncomfortably where it’s still pulled up inside him. He refuses to acknowledge the way his hands shake as he shuts off the water.

He avoids looking at Dirk for the rest of his shift. He  _ can’t. _

When the store is locked and he’s safely in the passenger seat of Dirk’s car, he lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

“I  _ hate _ you.”

Oh  _ hell _ yeah, Dirk knows that look that glazes over Karkat's eyes, the way Karkat stops squirming when Dirk holds him firm. 

Fuck. 

He's missed this. 

And just when he's about to devour Karkat's mouth properly, the door to the back swings open, and Karkat is out of his arms, a couple of drops of coffee spilling onto the counter. 

Eyes shutting in resignation now, he flips his shades back in place, giving the co-worker a glare, but keeping silent. He's not affected. At all. Just playing Karkat like an instrument, is all. 

He's sure they try to engage him in some kinda smalltalk, but he ignores them utterly. No thanks. Other things on his mind. Like how Karkat's bulge is probably  _ writhing _ inside Karkat's sheath now, how he'll be wanting to sit down on his dick  _ so bad _ . 

It only takes a couple of minutes after he's done with his coffee that Karkat is practically dragging him back to their, uh, his car, and Dirk takes off his shades and puts them in his hand-made compartment for them lovingly before turning to Karkat with simpery little smile. 

"Aww, Karkat... I hate you too, baby Kitten.." He leans over, finger under Karkat's chin as he gives him a little kiss, smirk so firm on his face that his face is aching with it. 

Riling Karkat up will  _ never _ not be funny... and hot. 

"I just wanted to keep you company at work, Kitten.... Didn't time just  _ fly by _ when I came along, hmm..?" He pets his thumb against Karkat's chin, eyes on his bottom lip. 

Fuck. He might have been affected a bit more than expected too. He's cool about it though.

It takes every ounce of Karkat’s self control not to climb across the car and into Dirk’s lap. That one little kiss is  _ not enough  _ and he doesn’t want to have to wait until they get home for more. And that awful, cocky, condescending, sexy tone of voice Dirk uses is not helping. The way he turns Karkat’s chin up. The knowing glint in his eye.

_ Baby kitten… _ Unbelievable.

He can’t believe he’s actually started to  _ like  _ the name. It’s degrading and he hates that it stirs that fire in him. It only makes him want to jump Dirk even more.

He’s  _ definitely _ too wet now, and he’s glad that his pants are black. He also might take a little bit of satisfaction in knowing that it might soak into the car seat, meaning Dirk will have to clean it later. Serves him right, it’s his own fucking fault.

He grabs Dirk by the front of his shirt and drags him into another kiss. He licks into Dirk’s mouth, baties at his lip, lets all of his daily frustrations fuel his hate and make it  _ hurt. _ He doesn’t even care what the present is anymore, it doesn’t matter. He just wants to eat Dirk alive.

When he finally pulls away, he’s panting and flushed. His cheeks are hot all the way down to his chest, and he’s all but squirming in his seat.

Maybe he should work the closing shift more often. Let Dirk pick him up from work more. If  _ this _ is how it’s going to be.

He sits back properly in his own seat and pulls his seatbelt on. “Let’s go,” he mutters, like he’s actually still trying to hide how horny he is from Dirk. Like it hasn’t been obvious from the start.

He crosses his arms for good measure.

Dirk as about to say something, but is interrupted by a fist at his shirt and- oh hello,  _ tongue _ , followed by  _ teeth _ , and Dirk pushes their teeth together more firmly, hot pain jolting straight down from his lip to his groin, and he stifles a groan into Karkat's mouth. 

it's over way too soon, but seeing Karkat's grey skin  _ glowing _ with red is worth it. He sucks at his lower lip to stem the flow of his new little cut there, then grins and leans back into his seat as well, starting the car up. 

"Yeah..." Only the knowledge of what's to come helps Dirk not stop the car midway and go at Karkat with gusto; patience. he needs it more than ever right now, because he's not gonna come for quite a long time. 

The need to bicker, break the silence, slip into a comfortable pattern between them is hard to resist, but Dirk finds that he kinda enjoys the tension building between them now, knowing that he has the upper hand. 

He glances to Karkat from time to time, and when he changes gears from one to the other, he ends up with a hand on Karkat's thigh after, thumb rubbing over the jeans. Doesn't say anything, that would ruin it. Just teasing at Karkat again, a little smirk playing on his lips. 

It's a short trip home, and when they get back, the lights aren't on. Dirk made sure Dave wasn't gonna be there of course. Having a boy's night with John or whatever. Probably some kind of shitty marathon of Nic Cage movies. 

Which gave him  _ plenty _ of time to set up the tank. 

Once they're up the stairs, Dirk really can't help himself; he grabs onto Karkat and slams him firmly against the front door, chest pressing into Karkat's chest, his hand grabbing onto Karkat's jaw and opening it with force so he can smash their lips together, his tongue shoving in viciously.

Karkat tastes  _ addicting _ . 

"Mmh... Fuck, Kitten, you're so fuckin' cute.... I can't wait to make you mewl, see you come undone..." His other hand grabs onto an asscheek firmly, squeezing it hard. 

"You ready for my surprise, Baby...?" He gives Karkat another resounding kiss, eyes keen on Karkat now; he's been waiting for this for  _ weeks _ . This is gonna be what tips this over to his favour again, what gets Karkat all weak and mellow under him. 

His heart is pounding, energy making him jittery. It's close to how he gets when he finds a new project, the drive to immerse himself into something completely. 

He wants to immerse himself in Karkat, tonight.

The silence between them is thick and tense. Every passing second only makes Karkat squirmier, angrier, his foot tapping anxiously beneath him. He can’t stop thinking about Dirk’s body weight on top of him, pressing him into the nearest flat surface, tongue in his mouth, naked skin on skin, claws in flesh, cock rubbing up against his nook--

The hand on his thigh startles him enough to make him jump. His thoughts shift back into the present moment, Dirk’s hand in his pants, teeth in his neck, that  _ thumb, _ holy fucking shit, is he  _ keyed up. _ The fact that Dirk doesn’t say anything only amplifies the hot arousal swimming between his thighs. Like Dirk  _ knows _ he doesn’t have to say anything, because he’s already won this little game.

He’s got Karkat wrapped around his fucking finger.

When they get home-- to Dirk’s house-... fuck it,  _ home.  _ Karkat is more than happy to let Dirk shove him up against the front door. Fuck it if the neighbors can see the, Karkat couldn’t care less as Dirk forces his mouth open and kisses him deep. It goes to straight to his head, leaving him dizzy, and then straight back down to his groin.

Dirk seems… _ extra excitable _ tonight, and Karkat is caught between wanting to put up even more of a fight than usual, or caving and letting Dirk do whatever he wants to him.

He’s going to let Dirk do whatever he wants anyway, but… what fun would it be if he didn’t return the sentiment? Dirk obviously put a lot of effort into… whatever this is. And no matter how hard it makes his heart race, no matter how weak his knees are, he needs to keep up. He needs to let Dirk know he  _ fucking loves it. _

He digs the nails of both hands into Dirk’s shoulders, forcing him to stay tucked in close. When he answers, his words are only a hiss against Dirk’s lips. “Do you worst, asshole. Whatever stupid toy you have in there doesn’t matter. I’ve seen them all by now.  _ You don’t scare me.” _

His face aches where Dirk squeezes it. He’s dying to sink his teeth back into Dirk, his lips, his neck, anywhere, it doesn’t matter. His bulge wriggles where it’s pinned between both their bodies, desperately searching for an outlet.

While it’s true that Karkat has seen… a lot of human toys at this point, maybe he _ hasn’t _ seen all of them. His mind darts between the things Dirk could have up his sleeve, what he possibly could have planned to make him this cocky. The unknowing throbs in him, makes him hotter. Dirk can be pretty unpredictable sometimes, and it’s one of the things Karkat has come to loathe the most.

He can’t _ wait  _ to get inside.

A soft hiss slips out from Dirk's lips as Karkat's claws digs into him. They go straight through his t-shirt and into his flesh, and it feels divine. Karkat's equally hissing words whisper over his lips, sending fire down his throat and into his stomach. 

"Seems 've been too sweet with ya then, kittycat..." He squeezes Karkat's jaw more so he'll shut up, surging his tongue into his mouth for a thorough frenching, moaning at the blood spilled between them, making their kisses taste of metal. 

With a final little grind into Karkat's wriggly, Dirk steps back, digging his hand into his back-pocket to find his key, still pressing Karkat against the door as he twists the lock, smirking down at him cheekily. 

Dirk has the decency to at least step back as he opens it so Karkat won't be tumbling to the floor; he takes Karakt's hand, squeezes it, tugs it so Karkat will follow him to his bedroom.

What took the most time was the tank. He had a long while to decide how to have it installed; he's made it a habit to keep most of his sexual stuff hidden, but a tank the size of one of his bigger tool-boxes isn't easy to hide away so inconspicuously. Never mind that his purchase doesn't really like extended periods of sunlight. 

So when Karkat enters the room, nothing is really  _ amiss _ per se. The bed is made and it might be a bit cleaner than usual; not that he's a total slob. 

But then, the secret is unveiled; Dirk walks over to his built-in closet purposefully, then tugs at one of the drawers; two of the drawers seems to have been melded together, and opening it produces a soft 'shh' and a small whiff of cool smoke and the smell of ozone and sopor, a small light from inside the the drawer glowing a warm green. 

"Come on over darlin', there's someone I'd like ya to meet." The look on Dirk could be described as gleeful excitement, if it weren't drenched in aroused  _ hunger _ .

The front of the drawers seems to only be a facade for a thick glass-tank that seals completely shut when the drawer does. The tank is deep enough for Karkat to put his foot in and reach approximately knee-deep, and has two compartments. The smaller of them is shut still, but the second one... 

It's white currently, the circumference not bigger than a cigar but as long as Karkat's lower arm, and when the light is turned on, it writhes and curls around itself in distracted loops. Its nubby, almost nonexistent legs wriggle around for purchase around the glass tank. The gentle hum of the auto-cleaner at the bottom is faint enough for it to barely be heard, even when the drawer is open. 

Without hesitance, Dirk dives his hand in and brushes a finger against the nookworm, and it automatically curls around his finger, then his wrist. The end of it, decidedly thinner and firmer than the rest of its body, hooks firmly against him for hold. He pulls it out of the sopor/nutrients slime, and it writhes and pulsates obscenely around his hand in a way that makes his cheeks warm. 

Karkat isn’t exactly excited about being let go. Fucking up against the front door on the outside of the house probably isn’t the best idea, but fuck good ideas. At least Dirk holds his hand on the way in. He squeezes back like it’ll keep that fire alive, walks a little too closely. He can’t help it, he wants to be on top of Dirk _ now. _

He groans and bounces on his feet when Dirk heads for the dresser, because really? The bed is right fucking there, what could be so important? It doesn’t quite register in his mind, the strange way the drawer opens, until suddenly there’s a--

around--

Dirk’s--

_ What the fuck? _

“What the  _ fuck,” _ he repeats out loud. “Where the fuck did you  _ get _ that thing?” His eyes are wide now, and he’s clinging tightly to Dirk’s other arm. His blood runs cold, and he shivers and suddenly gets way too hot.

If Dirk’s face is warm, Karkat’s is on  _ fire. _

He stares at the nookworm, unblinking, stunned beyond any other words. The shameless way Dirk handles the thing is shocking, makes his nook  _ throb. _ The smell of the sopor is overwhelming, makes his head spin.

His mouth opens like he’s got something to say, but it closes again as he continues to watch it. It’s _ very obviously _ hungry. It makes a little cirp, like it  _ knows _ exactly how much genmat is soaking through Karkat’s jeans, and to his mortification… he chirps back.

It _ thrills  _ at the noise, wrapping more excitedly around Dirk’s wrist and fingers. Karkat takes a step back, entire body hot with humiliation. He can’t _ look at it anymore. _

Jesus fucking christ.

Eyes blinks and eyebrows shoots up at their little exchange; that wasn't something Dirk was expecting, but fuck if he's gonna let that one slip away unnoticed. 

"It seems like you are already introducing yourselves." The worm writhes, and Dirk has to grab hold of the slightly more meaty part of its body so it won't try to noodle its way over to Karkat; it's secreting some kind of slimy slick, so he has to hold it even firmer; it gives off another chirp, but doesn't seem hurt by it. 

It doesn't have any eyes, and the way it goes from that thin handle-like tail to thick bottom, to tapered end, it very much looks like its role of sex-toy; if maybe horrifyingly alive and somewhat sentient.

Sometimes you just gotta surprise your troll-boyfriend with a sentient sex-toy, and that's really all there is to say on that matter. 

"I bought it, duh. Took it three weeks to arrive here, been waiting to see that look on your face since I ordered it." 

With confidence, he holds the worm out towards Karkat, eyes wide with excitement; the way Karkat's actually  _ speechless _ is more than telling, and he's so red he might as well combust. Gently, he dunks the worm into the tank again, shaking his hand a little so the worm will dislodge. It still seems ready to go, almost writhing itself into knots. 

Dirk lets the glop slide off his hands (it leaves a small layer of the sopor-mix on him, but it's like a thin layer of lotion), then uses the same hand to tilt Karkat's head up so their eyes are locking again. 

"What do you say, pretty kitten..? Been a long time since you played with your childhood toys hasn't it..? Excited?" His other hand goes down to squish against Karkat's soaked trousers, and he tuts, continuing to rub, "seems like you  _ are... _ Well, how about we get these clothes off and have some  _ fun..?" _

Dirk’s excitement is _ radiant, _ and Karkat can’t seem to catch a solid breath. It’s shallow, his heart hammering so fast, he feels light headed. He had been planning on putting up a fight, getting nice and rough with his amazing kismesis, but now?

Now he’s  _ shaking. _ He couldn’t put up a fight if he tried.

The kiss he gives Dirk is filthy. Primal. The sopor slime tingles where Dirk’s fingers touch his skin, and it sends another surge of arousal down his spine. He wonders if Dirk can feel it too.

He hadn’t thought it was possible to be even more turned on than he already was, but he was fucking wrong. He’s never wanted Dirk this badly before. He’d be disgusted with himself if he could think straight.

He shamelessly grinds his wet,  _ fucking soaked  _ groin into Dirk’s hand and makes a hot noise. Somewhere between a groan and a growl, heavy and vibrating through his entire body. He covers Dirk’s hand with one of his own, holding it tighter against himself, hips stuttering against it.

Fuck. Clothes need to go.

But he can’t stop _ kissing. _

_ ”Bed,”  _ he grinds out, rumbling underneath the noise he’s still making. How the fuck did Dirk get to know him so well?

"Mmm-..." Dirk moans into the kiss, letting Karkat ravage his mouth thoroughly; why not, when otherwise Dirk has full control of the situation? After a little while his hand starts tingling; he's heard Sopor has some benign effect on humans, but not enough to really worry, even if ingested orally; the shudder tells Dirk that Karkat is at least affected in  _ some _ way. 

When Karkat's hand forces his to grind into Karkat's groin harder, he gives off a small gasp, surprised at how fucking  _ turned on _ Karkat is- well, he was  _ hoping _ for enthusiasm, but this is beyond expectations. 

Dirk is the  _ best _ kismesis, holy shit. He grins into Karkat's kiss, pulling back from Karkat's lips, relishing in how Karkat tries to chase him. He pulls his hand away from Karkat's crotch as well, looking down between them to quickly unbutton his jeans, zip him down, and then he pants Karkat like they're in first grade and Dirk has a mean crush on'im. 

"Kick'em off." His voice is a mumble, but a clear one; Karkat  _ will _ do as he says. "You're fucking soaked aren't you, holy shit.." He's not being gentle when he grabs onto Karkat's shirt and tugs it off him, and he throws it onto the floor with glee- almost there. 

For a moment he considers restraining Karkat, but he decides against it; sometimes restraining someone by hand is just  _ better _ . 

And anyways, it doesn't seem like Karkat will be resisting much either way. 

With a push, Karkat is on his back on the bed with his legs over the edge, Dirk towering over him and keeping his legs spread. His nook is already  _ leaking _ , which is just perfect. He wishes he could film this, but he'll make do by committing this to  _ memory _ .

"Now you hold on tight for a hot minute, baby..." He soothes a hand over Karkat's inner thigh before reaching over to the closet; just enough that he doesn't have to step away from Karkat, just as planned; and then the worm is latching onto him again thrilling excitedly as it smells gemat in close vicinity. 

"Here you go, wriggles... Let's see here.." Dirk uses the thumb of his free hand to push some of Karkat's folds aside, and it seems the nookworm knows  _ exactly _ what to do. Which it should, since it was made for it. 

The moment the thin head of the worm comes into contact with Karkat's skin, it chirps and starts wriggling frantically, unlatching from Dirk so it can delve into Karkat's nook. Like Dirk had read about, he only held his finger against the entrance of the nook, and the tail of it curls around it firmly, preventing it from getting stuck in there.

An excited exhale comes out slightly shaky as he uncurls the tail enough, and then it's almost easy to have it curl around Karkat's bulge, hard enough that he shouldn't be able to retract after coming. 

With both his thumbs now, he pulls Karkat's folds apart gently, seeing how the thick end of the worm slowly starts turning pink, getting darker as it feeds on its new owner's material. It should be thickening inside him, writhing and pulsing and trying to crawl in deeper, latch onto his material sack and  _ suck _ .

Only then does he look up to his boyfriend, a now very firm blush on his face. "Wow-.... How does that feel, baby...? It's not big yet, is it..? I can  _ see _ it writhing, holy shit..."

Karkat is still present as Dirk strips him and tells him what to do. His eyes are wide open, pupils blown, as he’s shoved roughly down onto the bed. He bares his sharp teeth in menace as Dirk coos at him, pets his thigh, tells him to wait. That tone of voice has no fucking place here right now.

When the nookworm comes back into sight, though, his eyes are glazing over again, and he can feel his heart skip a beat. The idea of it alone was so obscene, he couldn’t even look Dirk in the eye when he’d mentioned it. And now it's…  _ right fucking there. _

Dirk really has no fucking shame about anything. It’s disgusting and Karkat  _ hates him. _

And of course Dirk doesn’t hesitate to show the worm right where to go. It chirps excitedly and dives _ right in,  _ and Karkat’s eyes roll back in his head as it  _ fills him. _ It’s thin, but it’s  _ long,  _ and it coils up inside him, stretches him, squirming, leaking sopor.

His elbows give out beneath him as a full body shiver forces him to collapse against the bed. It’s been so long since he had something  _ moving _ inside of him, he doesn’t even know how to handle it. It’s slick, excitable, searching, _ eating.  _ He can literally feel his own material being soaked up, replaced with the throbbing, tingling sensation of sopor and secretions.

He’s panting, and he doesn’t even realize how speechless he’s gone until Dirk tries to talk to him. He hadn’t noticed the way Dirk was holding him open, or the tight clamp of the worm’s tail around his bulge, or even… that Dirk was  _ watching _ him.

And suddenly he feels very exposed.

He feels way too fucking good for Dirk to have any right to see him like this. He’s too open, too vulnerable, to fucking easy to dominate. He’s like a wild animal, showing its belly to a hunter with a spear. He very much feels like Dirk’s prey, and he’s about to be eaten alive.

He shudders out a breath as the worm coils  _ right up against  _ one of his sweet spots--  _ all his sweet spots. _ He moans with just the slightest bit of restraint he still holds. His toes curl, his back arching. He’s never been so close to cumming so quickly in his fucking life. Between the build up at the coffee shop, and the tense car ride, and the  _ well thought out surprise… _ The nookworm is overkill, honestly.

He can’t seem to find his words, so instead of answering Dirk, he opens his eyes instead. They’re bleary, only half open, only serving to further expose just how desperate he is. It’s  _ swelling _ already inside of him, and the further he bloats, the less coherent he gets.

He reaches for Dirk and his fucking arm shakes all the way from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. He grasps at Dirk’s t-shirt, imagining himself tearing through it and pulling Dirk in close, but he only manages to curl into it. He isn’t even purring or growling, just breathing on its own is labor enough.

He is completely, utterly fucked.

Honestly, Dirk was kind of expecting Karkat to cuss him out. Get angry, rave about how little Dirk knows about Alternian culture, complete with eyerolls and involuntary clicks of his throat and big hand-gestures. 

Instead, he finds the biggest reward in front of him by far. It seems like Karkat can't even focus outside his own body, with how much that's happening inside him. He has this pinched expression on him that's close to pain, but his upscrunched brows, his lax arms, his panting.... 

Karkat doesn't even  _ try _ to compete. This is a complete win for Dirk, no contesting it. Karkat locks gazes with him, and Dirk can  _ see _ how desperate he is, how his need is being fulfilled right in front of him, and Dirk hasn't even properly lifted a finger to help him. The grasp on Dirk he has is weak and shaky, and he's convulsing softly, dancing against a non-existent body, rolling his hips as the worm fucks him good. 

A whole  _ world _ opens up for Dirk. 

They've just started, but Karkat is basically on the brink of coming; that's  _ amazing _ . The potensial is  _ great _ . He can see it, how he can finally compete with Karkat's tireless libido. Yeah, he can still do it if he eats Karkat out for long enough, but this is low-energy and high-reward. 

He can  _ really _ make Karkat sloppy with this new little addition.

"Does that feel good, huh, Kitten...? You look like you took a hit of cat-nip...." 

Dirk leans over to open the other compartment of the tank, eyes still on Karkat, watching the way he hazily begs for more without using his words. 

Oh, he'll give him more. 

"Just one moment baby, you just keep feeling good, I know you're gonna be feeling  _ so _ good tonight:" 

The thing he pulls out almost looks like a circular bandaid, about the size the inside of his fist. The top of it has a shell, but the bottom has squirmy, short, writhing tentacles with a mouth in the middle. 

So he went a little overboard. Sue him. 

"How's this feel kitten..?" Making sure his finger isn't in the way, he guides the flat bio-sex-toy onto the lower grubscar on one of Karkat's sides; immediately, it sucks itself onto the scar, the tentacles writhing and squirming against the sensitive scar-tissue. "Heard these were in high demand in Alternia right now...." 

He digs his hand into the tank, grabbing another one, gazing down at Karkat in something akin to smugness, adoration and fascination. Right now, the fascination is winning out. 

"Tell me how it feels- it sucks on you too, right?? Does it vibrate..? Can't feel it through the shell..." He pushes against the shell of the one attached to Karkat, and it squirms even more, afraid that it'll get crushed. Dirk grins. 

"Fuck yeah, Kitten... Wonder how many times I can make you come today..."

Karkat is already close, so fucking close that he can’t stand it. His eyes can’t focus, can’t follow Dirk as Dirk leans away from him. Dirk is talking again, but Karkat can only pick out a select few words. He latches onto  _ Kitten  _ and his heart swells with feelings.

He really, truly, with his whole entire pumper,  _ hates Dirk. _ No one else would ever treat him this way. No one else can make him feel like this. No one else…

If the rush of feelings weren’t already enough to push him over the edge, the sudden wet buzzing latched onto one of his scars is definitely it. His orgasm washes over him, searing hot and  _ blinding. _ He feels pulled apart, stretched so thin he might not even be real anymore.

And the _ worm. _ It doesn’t let him come down easy. It thrashes even more frantically inside him as genmat spills. It works double time to swallow everything it can, growing fatter by the second, burrowing  _ deeper.  _ It finally finds his material sac, and  _ latches on, _ pulling a raw cry from Karkat’s throat. It’s obscene, it’s  _ loud,  _ but he can’t fucking help it.

His nails tear right through the sheets and into the mattress with how hard he grips at it. His back arches high, his hips digging and grinding down into the bed, like it’ll help the nookworm along, get it to suckle that much better at his sac. It’s relentless, it’s actually  _ too much. _

It starts to hurt for a moment, and reality crashes back down around him. He becomes very aware of everything that’s happening again. The wook squirming so deeply inside him, Dirk has never  _ been  _ that deep. The… thing pulsating on his grubscar. He actually doesn’t know what that is. Is it something new Dirk found?

And Dirk… Dirk is standing there, watching him. Just… watching. This fact causes Karkat to flush all the way from his ears down to his chest.

“Dirk…” he whines. His own hips are squirming now. As overwhelmed as he was a moment ago, the pleasure is quickly starting to ebb back up his spine. He  _ needs _ Dirk _ now.  _ Before he loses himself again… “If you don’t kiss me right fucking now…” he warns. His voice shakes with the words, the rumble of a growl starting up in his chest.

Well... That was really efficient. Ten out of fucking ten on the efficiency scale, holy shit. Maybe Dirk should ask the worm for lessons on how to make Karkat come in twenty seconds  _ flat,  _ cause damn, there's no mistaking Karkat's o-face, or the way he thrashes and  _ yowls. _ The cry that rips out of his boyfriend is downright animalistic, and if Dirk wasn't hot and bothered before he sure as fuck is now. 

_ Riiiip  _ goes the sheets, and Dirk's heart is up in his throat. God, Karkat is like a troll possessed, and when he finally seems to realize that yeah, Dirk still  _ exists, _ he gets so red that Dirk has to blush a little as well. 

He looks _ wrecked.  _ He  _ sounds  _ wrecked. 

Karkat Vantas  _ is _ wrecked. 

With nothing more than a nod, Dirk leans down, a hand by Karkat's head and the other one still holding a second of the flat scar-cuddlers or whatever they were called, then leans down to give Karkat an almost soft kiss, eyes open to look at the debauched troll under him. He sighs, then goes in for a deeper kiss, letting the heat he's been feeling well in him again, makes him bite at Karkat's lips and gnash their teeth together in a way that probably doesn't even feel good for Karkat but makes his own skull ache in a pleasant way.

"Haven't even started, and you're being such a good lil' kitten for me." He scooches closer, sitting up to encourage Karkat's legs to wrap around his waist, letting Karkat hump against him in a way that relieves his own building pressure slightly. "Shit, Karkat. Didn't even know trolls could come that fast.... You're fucking welcome." He grins smugly, then remembers that he's still holding one of these suckers-- he places it on the lowest scar on the other side, moaning as he sees it attach. 

"Does that feel good, baby..? 've got four more." He's murmuring it against Karkat's mouth between deep, slightly painful kisses, and he presses a finger against the little sucker, and it squirms even harder under pressure. "Consider it _ revenge, _ Kitten. Didn't think you'd get away with fucking me up so easily, hmm..?" 

It's one of the things he had in mind for the evening. A direct parallell from when Karkat broke him into tiny pieces then held him after. He'll give it back tenfold, and he'll make sure Karkat hates it so much he'll  _ need _ it to happen again, need  _ Dirk. _

He'll never want to leave. 

He deepens the kisses, replacing teeth with tongue, delving into Karkat's mouth with eager fervour, filling up Karkat in all the ways that matters. His free hand goes up to Karkat's horn, holding onto it and tugging it a little, moaning happily into his mouth. Fuck yeah. 

There's no way he isn't going to make Karkat cry tonight.

Karkat is grateful that Dirk doesn’t fight him, just kisses him. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with the banter right now, no matter how hard he tries. He’s amazed he even just spoke a full sentence. And Dirk kisses him  _ hard _ and it’s so deeply satisfying. 

But then Dirk  _ stops _ and starts _ teasing him _ again, and it does not help the way he’s blushing. It makes the warmth spread even further down is chest, and the next bug latching onto his scars makes him flinch away. It’s a lot, he’s still sensitive-- god,  _ why is he so fucking sensitive???  _ The ache in his body is starting to fade back into that numbing pleasure, though, and he can’t even tell Dirk that he’s wrong.

So he nods. It does feel good. The worm has been urgently suckling on his material sac, and it’s quickly sending him into another spiral. It’s not writing quite as much anymore, now that it’s had it’s first meal, but it’s still  _ moving.  _ And now Dirk’s body is pressed up against his and it’s like putting pressure on a gaping wound to stop the bleeding. Dirk is holding him together.

He instinctively wraps his legs around Dirk’s hips when Dirk nudges between them. He pulls tight, holding Dirk close, grinding against his clothed hips.  _ Fucker is still fully dressed again, goddamnit-- _ His bulges wiggles searchingly along Dirk’s groin, disappointed to find nothing to wrap around. It makes him whine petulantly, like a wriggler who’s been told no. 

His growl breaks just a bit, his breath catching as another hot wave of pleasure hits him. The sucking is  _ doing things  _ to him, and the bugs on his scars are tireless, and Karkat is quickly heading for his next orgasm. Dirk’s tongue in his mouth again only makes it worse, and he loves every second of it.

He actually has the _ coherency  _ this time to love it.

He rips his claws out of the ruined mattress to wrap his arms around Dirk’s neck. He can’t get close enough, can’t have enough of Dirk inside him. And then, like Dirk can read his mind, Dirk is grabbing into one of his horns. Emotion wells up inside him, makes him whine and arch deeper against Dirk. He doesn’t even bother breaking the kiss to mutter into it, “Gonna cum again…”

The harder the nookworm sucks him, the more genmat he leaks. And the more genmat he leaks, the more excited the worm gets. It’s a vicious, endless cycle, and Karkat isn’t going to make it. When it hits him, it’s not quite as earth shattering as the first one was, but it’s still  _ good. _ It’s still  _ overwhelming  _ and leaves him aching. It aches so well, he bites Dirk _ hard. _ He clamps down with his teeth and doesn’t let go until his orgams passes, and that hurt starts to settle in again.

He squirms again with overstimulation, nook rubbing painfully over the rough fabric of Dirk’s jeans. The worm is  _ thick _ by now. Fattened up well by how much material it’s swallowed. It’s bigger than a bulge would be, bigger than Dirk’s cock would be, and it stretches him in a way that can only make him sigh. He’s absolutely stuffed, and he’s absolutely thrilled.

It _ does _ hurt though, and his eyes are starting to water. He looks up at Dirk, and even though he’s trying to look angry, it’s just pouty. Pouty and red and wet and tears start to roll down the sides of his face. He feels a disconnect suddenly, and Dirk is here, sure, obviously, and his body is pressed to Karkat’s but… “...Are you just…” he starts, but he doesn’t know how to ask. “...Aren’t you going to… Like, fuck me?”

He’s already cum twice, and Dirk had hardly touched him. As amazing as the worm is, he got himself all worked up before this for  _ Dirk _ and he wants  _ Dirk. _

Oh god, he's gonna come again  _ now _ ??? This is moving way fast, he knew it was going to be intense, but this is kind of a  _ lot _ . 

Not that Dirk minds; Karkat deserves to have some overstim, he probably loves it, now that Dirk is thinking about it. "Damn, Karkat, just seeing you like this-...  _ Ahmff _ \--!" Pain shoots into his lip as Karkat's sharp teeth sink into it, and he can't even pull back to see how a droplet or two hits the mattress, miniscule spillage now that the nookworm is slurping up all the genmat in him- fuck. 

Dirk wants to see the way Karkat's bulge tries retreating, how it can't, how his hips are working overtime in hopes of getting  _ more _ , even when he feels he's getting  _ too much _ . The pain feels good though, grounding and warm and pulsing, and he almost sighs when Karkat lets him go. 

Knowing that Karkat pouts like a pretty little boy should be forbidden knowledge, and it probably is; but Dirk searches the Deep Web on a daily basis, and he can fucking handle it. 

He can. Totally. Get yourself together Dirk.

"Yeah-.. Yeah, I'm gonna fuck you, baby. I'm gonna fuck your ass while wriggles does its job, and you're gonna be so fucking stuffed..." He tries leaning back and over to reach the tank for another sucker, but Karkat is holding him too tight, and the position doesn't lend him any favours. Hmm. Oh well. He barely seemed to react to those little babies anyway. 

Definitely something to try later though, in public. It should feel a  _ little _ good, right?

"Okay-.. Ugh, okay, Kitten, how you feelin? Remember our safeword, hmm..?" After some precarious balancing, he uses one hand to flick open his own pants, the other one stroking under Karkat's eyes, catching a small droplet of pink. "What colour are you..?" 

Something in him his blossoming, relaxing as he sees Karkat cry: last time he cried, it was because things had gone so wrong- and maybe that made him think he never wanted to see Karkat cry ever again. But seeing him now, pleading for Dirk to fuck him, feeling so good and stuffed and overwhelmed that pink is spilling over his face-... 

Dirk was dumb for thinking he could ever give up on Karkat's crying face. 

Karkat's given another harsh kiss, and then he uses both hands to tug down his own pants and boxers, kicking them off efficiently. When he then pushes their hips together, Karkat's bulge is free to wrap around Dirk's dick, which makes him moan shakily- fuck yeah. He's been hard for  _ so long _ now... 

He leans over Karkat for a moment, digging his hand under his pillow, and procures a bottle of lube. Always prepared. 

"Tell me I can have you, baby..."

Dirk says  _ ’yeah’ _ and Karkat’s heart flutters with anticipation, but then… Dirk keeps talking, like he’s known to do, and Karkat’s eyes widen as he listens to what Dirk has planned.

His _ ass?  _ That is not at all the fuck what he meant, there’s no  _ way. _ He’s stuffed so full of fat, swelling worm, he actually feels bloated. There’s no  _ room _ for anything else to fit inside him. And Dirk wants… Dirk wants to give him  _ more? _ He can’t.

He absolutely can’t.

His hands go tense where he’s holding Dirk around the arms. His bulge finally wrapping itself around Dirk’s cock backs him twitch up off the bed again, a sharp, painful type of pleasure he didn’t even know he could experience.

But Dirk is cooing at him all sweet… And asking for him in that low, needy tone he gets when he  _ really fucking wants _ Karkat. And Karkat wants him, too…

But does it have to be that?

“...Cautiously green,” he finally says. His voice is tight, and he’s clearly hesitant. “I’m still okay. You can-... you can  _ try…” _ He has a hard time telling Dirk he wants anything in his ass in the first place, on a regular day with no other bells or whistles attached. But he remembers… He remembers that time he had both boys inside him at the same time and that…

That was  _ good. _

But this nookworm is  _ definitely _ bigger than Dave is. But.

_ But. _

Dirk’s eagerness is enough to make Karkat want to try anything. He had been so fucking excited about all of this, and he still is, and remembering that kicks up Karkat’s excitement again.

He blinks away a few stray tears and nods then, for extra assurance. “I trust you…”

"Hell yeah, Kitten knew you wanted it..." Dirk never really gave it much thought, since he'd already gotten his way with Karkat in pretty much any way that mattered, but Karkat really is kind of a prude when it comes to chute stuff, huh... 

"I'm green, too." Just to be an asshole. 

And speaking of 'asshole'.. 

Dirk pops the cap open on his bottle of lube, then squirts some on his fingers. He has to lean back a little to see where he should slip his hand down, but he leans back over again before Karkat can start complaining too much. So needy, his boyfriend.

"It'll feel so good, baby... Remember how gone you were, when you took-.." maybe not drag Dave into this, "us both, hmm..? Fuck you were so good for us.. I thought you were gonna pass out..." Gently, he rubs a slicked up finger against Karkat's chute, sighing out his breath in time with Karkat's. "But you took it so well, kitten.. Even after, you were begging for more weren't you.." 

Dirk kisses at Karkat's collarbone, his free hand playing with one of the suckers, feeling it squirm and vibrate under the pad of his finger. Slowly, he breaches Karkat's chute, a finger gently sinking into him- fuck. Already, Dirk can tell that he's been stretched to the max; and he can  _ feel _ lil' wriggles going at it like today was his last meal. 

This lil' nookworm is going to be fucking  _ spoilt _ . 

Karkat  _ trusts _ him. 

It makes him pause his finger, makes his gaze drag up to where it was looking between them again and back into Karkat's eyes, something in him melting a little; it's not an honor he feels he deserves, but.. Maybe Karkat does. Maybe Karkat thinks he's earned it. 

Maybe he has?

Dirk sighs out heavily, nodding and tilting his head to the side so he can suckle unabashedly at Karkat's skin, working hard to leave dark-red marks as he starts moving his finger again.

"You can trust me, Kitten... Hate me till you're blue in the face, but you know you can't get it this good, this  _ much _ with anyone but me..." 

Without really intending it, it comes out kinda possessive, and he sinks his teeth into the meat of Karkat's neck, breathing out as he stuffs another finger into Karkat's chute, moaning out as he feels the nookworm rub against Karkat's wall inquisitively, probably wondering what the fuck is happening on the other side. 

This really is going into some heavy xeno shit if he ever saw it- Dirk kind of loves it. 

Though not sure why, it feels so good to sink his teeth into Karkat- that he can just  _ do _ that, and Karkat will let him. Spades burns in his eyes, and he starts fucking his fingers in and out of the troll, trying to wriggle his fingers in a way that imitates the nookworm. 

Orgasm number there, here we come.

If Karkat hadn’t already been thinking about that time with Dave, of course Dirk would bring it up. And Dirk just paints the picture _ so well _ in his mind… How he fell apart. How he fell in love with them both at the same time. How they gave him everything he wanted and more, even after each of them was too spent to keep fucking him…

But Dirk is still talking to him, and it’s hard to hold onto that image in his head. It’s… so much different from what’s happening now. This is  _ Dirk.  _ It’s all Dirk. Dirk is telling him he can trust him. That he wants to be hated. That Karkat will never get the same from anyone else… That he’s all Dirk’s.

He’s all Dirks.

He gasps when Dirk bites him, arching up and away from the mattress yet again. The two fingers stuffed inside him are just… so fucking much, too much, he can’t possibly take any more than this. The worm had calmed down a bit, but as if on cue, it starts kicking right back up again. Like it’s been agitated by the squeeze, like it thinks it needs to _ compete. _

And the rumble starts back up in Karkat’s chest, and he’s… He’s _ purring. _ It’s definitely not a growl, it’s a fucking purr, and it his skin weren’t already flushed the brightest red, it would be  _ now  _ with how humiliated it makes him. That’s not a noise for Dirk, that’s not…

He’s not…

He whines, trying to underplay the sound. He’s got both arms wrapped around Dirk, and he holds onto him even tighter. He feels like he’s being ripped apart, between the vibrations his own body is making, and the way his lower half is _ literally _ being split open. His hands find their way into Dirk’s hair and he grips at it like it’s a lifeline. He’s… there’s no way he’s this close again  _ already, _ he  _ just came. _

He squirms and grunts and his mouth hangs open. His nook and chute spasm around their respective invasions and he tenses as he fights the wave of pleasure that threatens to send him over the edge again so soon. At this rate, he’s going to be worn out before Dirk even gets the chance to fuck him… And he really, really wants Dirk to fuck him.

It’s all he fucking wants. He needs it so badly, he can’t stand it.

He needs Dirk. He hates Dirk. Hates him so fucking much, for making him feel like this.

His neck aches where Dirk’s teeth sink into flesh. It hurts just enough to keep him here, on the edge, dangerous, heady and spinning. It’s the third finger that finally shakes him hard enough to let go. He can’t fucking take it, and his third orgasm leaves him even more wrecked than the first two did. The worm  _ scrambles _ inside him, and he’s  _ got to be running dry by now.  _ There’s no way for him to be able to tell, but it attacks him material sac like it’s starving, and it feels so fucking raw and abused.

He can’t… He can’t possibly keep going.

He’s downright trembling as he clings to Dirk. He’s definitely crying. He’s gasping for breath, shaken to his very core.

“T-take it- take it _ out, _ I- I fuc- can’t- fucking--” he can’t get the words out, his purr breaking on desperate clicks and chirps. He’s  _ begging, _ his own body betraying his weaknesses. He’s fucking chittering, purring, shaking.

_ He still wants Dirk. _

“Mm-... Di-rk… I--” the worm gives an extra sharp suck and his eyes well with even hotter tears. It fucking hurts, it hurts so much, it’s  _ so good.  _ He’s never been pushed this far before. His bulge even tries to pull back inside, hot and  _ sensitive _ and overwhelmed, but it can’t. The tail of the worm is clamped so tightly around it, it’s like a stopper. He’s stuck. He’s completely, one hundred percent at Dirk’s mercy.

Dirk is about to start teasing at Karkat again, coax for him to start begging to start mewling and spitting fire and struggle... But he purrs. 

He almost stops up in shock, but pushes through millisecond-feelings of embarrassment and shock. It doesn't have to be flush, purring. Probably. 

Hopefully. 

Reluctantly, he pulls his teeth back from Karkat's now raw skin, a wet sound as he gives the bright red mark a soft kiss. "Aww.. That feel good, lil kittycat? So stuffed, so wrung out that you can barely talk, but you just love it so much-..?" 

Charmed, Dirk kisses and nips his way up Karkat's neck, stroking his fingers in and out in a gentle but firm little oval pattern, stretching Karkat out in a manner that would probably be cruel if it wasn't  _ Karkat, _ who had already taken both him and Dave and still moaned for more. 

Dirk presses his lips against the shell of Karkat's ear, whispering hotly, breathily, cause he knows it feels good, "bet you can't wait to feel my dick split you open.. I know you just want to be stuffed so full you can't  _ bear  _ it. Bet you're thinking that I should breed you. As if there's not already a lil' thing in you alive and squirmin'." 

A tug to his hair makes his breath hitch, and he doesn't move to untangle the hand; he's so fucking hard himself, he's about to start humping. 

Watching Karkat unravel as Dirk slips a third finger in is like seeing a rainbow, but in all red. Karkat is  _ glowing _ with the blush he has on his face, feeling Karkat's claws scrape against his scalp as he holds on tighter and tugs when his body starts spasming feels like a gift. 

He's never considered himself a poet, but he could rap about Karkat's ... he could rap about  _ Karkat _ for days on end. Freestyle. 

Shook out of his thoughts when Karkat starts talking, he blinks and looks to him, leaning back enough so he can look at Karkat's wet face. 

So pretty. So pretty when he begs.

"Baby..." He leans down for a soft but filthy kiss, tongue-heavy and syrupy slow. He lets it linger for probably a bit too long, pushing Karkat like he always does to take what he's given, before he leans back that little inch again. 

He purrs out at Karkat, trying to mimic his breathy little rumbly-sound, "colours..? You can trust me, Kitten, tell me your colours, I'll give you  _ everything _ you need..." While he's saying that though, his fingers are still stroking inside Karkat, pressing against the membrane between his holes, getting familiar with the nookworm in an entirely new way. 

"I still have so much I can give you.." He seals his promise with a little kiss to the corner of Karkat's mouth, his soft smirk felt against Karkat's cheek.

Karkat is wholly ready to give every single piece of himself to Dirk. To let Dirk do as he pleases with him, and be happy to do it. Everything is coming together in one numbing, overwhelming blanket of sensation, and he can’t tell what hurts and what feels good anymore. Even as the worm chews his sac raw, it only makes him shudder and cling harder to Dirk.

Dirk is his everything.

He doesn’t understand everything that Dirk is saying to him, but it doesn’t really matter. His brain is too mushy to try an parse what  _ breeding _ fully means, but the reminder that the nookworm is still very much active inside him only makes his heart race faster. 

Dirk  _ loves _ this. And he loves making Dirk happy.

Dirk’s reassurances, soft words, and sweet kisses lull him back down from  _ ’unbearable’ _ to  _ ”maybe I can do this.’ _ If only just because Dirk wants him to. He wants to give Dirk anything he wants.

He had been teetering pretty heavily on red for a second there, he thinks, but he settles back down into a cautious orange. He struggles to get the sounds to come out, because he’s still purring lowly and whimpering with each press of Dirk’s fingers. He’s worried very suddenly that he might rip open, with how stuffed full he is.

The fear mixes with the trust he has in Dirk, and makes him squirm. Dirk’s got him, Dirk wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. Dirk will take care of him…

“...N-not sure…” he finally manages to get out. He can’t form anything solid enough to be sure  _ about.  _ He’s not even sure if he’s alive or dead. He could have died and gone to heaven at this point, and he wouldn’t even know. “Mm… gr-” he starts to say green, but again, he hesitates. The pain and fear he felt only moments ago feel like a distant memory.

Because… Dirk has him.

“Green,” he decides, more firmly. His whole body feels like he’s swelling to accommodate both the worm and Dirk’s fingers. If he looked, he might see it bulging out of him, squirming under his skin.

If he weren’t already crying silent tears, he’d think he’d start for how much he wants Dirk to finally be inside him. He chirps and squeezes onto Dirk, nuzzling against him and making the neediest noise. “P- please, Dirk, I… I wa-nt yo u…”

"Yeah...?" Dirk's breath is coming out slightly ragged, affected and horny and desperate; already he can feel that coil of tension in him, his abdomen right. The way Karkat cautiously utters out a green, the way he stops up... 

Dirk never thought he'd find safewords hot, but with Karkat Vantas, anything seems to be possible. Knowing Karkat trusts him this, when he's already wrung out so dry, knowing that the worm is stuffed and huge inside the troll, knowing Dirk  _ made _ him like this... 

Yeah. This is going to happen again. A lot. 

"Fuck yeah, Kitten... Baby, you'll feel so good, you'll love it when I stuff you even fuller just you wait... 'know you're a lil slut Kittycat, I  _ hate  _ you for making me feel so much -..." He words come out a little slurred, heavy texan, and he leans in to lick away Karkat's tears; it probably isn't even hot to do so, but he's delirious, seeing Karkat so...  _ unravelled. _

With a well-practiced hand, he slicks himself up, brushing against Karkat's bulge as he ineloquently mashes his hips up against the trolls', his already slick dick squelching against the gentle wetness that's already between Karkat's legs. 

A gentle prod, feeling at the tightness, "Holy shit Karkat-- I was gonna-... torture you a whole lot more, but-.."Careful to look down and aim, he sinks in with one deep, sure thrust, and he moans out in something akin to shock, "you're so fucking messy already I don't even have to do anything-... Fuck-.."

When he thinks about it, he hasn't seen Karkat this out of it since he ate him out in the bathroom... Man... 

A sight for sore eyes. 

Then, something  _ wriggles _ against him, and he stutters on a thrust; "Oh god, I can feel it-" he looks down between them again, giving shorter, experimental little thrusts, having a very weird greeting with the toy. Slowly, he starts fucking into Karkat harder, getting competitive despite himself; territorial, deep moans dragging out of his mouth in dark grunts.

"Fuck- _ fuck, _ Karkat... You're-- so tight an'---...  _ Ugh, _ it's wriggling against me like a tongue... Can you feel it? We're both fucking you so good-...  _ Aaah..." _ His hands grip at Karkat's hips, holding him tight as he fucks into Karkat hard and fast in short pulses, panting into his ear as his breath comes out in moaning huffs. This close, Karkat on his back and Dirk directly over him, his weight on the troll, his body is squishing Karkat's bulge between the two of them, stimulating it with his thrusts. 

"Gonna come again, baby..? Does being this full with me feel good...?" His voice is silky despite his harsh breaths, and he nibbles on an ear, "must be, since you still want it so bad...."

“Dir-k…” Karkat whines. He hadn’t known what to expect, with his mind going numb and his body falling to pieces as it is. But when Dirk finally enters him… Fills him… Splits him open and tears him apart. He feels like he can’t breathe.

His chest puffs up with air and he chokes on it. His eyes fill with so many hot tears, he can’t see anymore either. His claws dig and tear into the sheets and he shakes his head back and forth. It’s so fucking much, it hurts, it’s--

Dirk starts to thrust and his sobs come out broken. He feels so good, he almost can’t feel  _ anything. _ He’s so fucking happy, to finally have Dirk, to be filled with him, surrpounded by him. Everything. Nothing.

His heart is racing and his body is throbbing. He’s strung out so thin, he’s not sure he’ll ever be the same again. He’s never going to bounce back. He’s being reshaped into something else completely.

Something Dirk’s.

The worm is thrashing inside him, like it can’t handle being stuffed in there alongside Dirk’s cock, and Karkat can’t fight it anymore. He can’t do anything but to let it all happen to him. He can hear Dirk talking to him, and he can’t hear the words, but it’s comforting nonetheless. Dirk won’t let him fall. Dirk is so good to him. Dirk will make sure he doesn’t float away.

He reaches out, he thinks he does, he must, because the next thing he knows there’s a weight on him. The embrace makes him cry even harder, filled with emotions and feelings and he just fucking-...

_ “I l-love you…” _

_ I love you I love you I love you _

He can’t tell what’s in his head and what’s outside. He clings to Dirk, to anything, to  _ Dirk. _ His orgasm expands in him and spills out of him like slime being squeezed between fingers. It’s heavy and thick and makes him dizzy. His eyes flutter. He doesn’t feel sore anymore. He doesn’t… really feel anything anymore.

“Dirk,” he says, and this time he  _ knows _ he says it, because it vibrates in his ears louder than he can handle. It makes him wince and squeeze his eyes shut hard, until it fades into nothingness, like everything else does.

Dirk is warm, so warm, and Karkat can’t get close enough. He wants Dirk to hold him, to wrap all the way around him and never let go. To warm his quickly chilling bones. He needs Dirk. He hates Dirk. He loves Dirk.

He can feel the sluggish rise and fall of his own chest. He’s alive. He’s breathing. But he can’t open his eyes. He doesn’t want to. Dirk will handle it. Whatever it is. If anything even needs handled. What Karkat needs is just… this. Rest. Dirk.

Vaguely his nook throbs, and he whines. His bulge slips back up inside him and deep relief washes through him. “Thank you…” he mutters. He turns and nuzzles into something solid, and when he breathes, all he can smell is Dirk. He nuzzles deeper and breathes deeper too.

"Aww, look at you.." Dirk can't help how soft he feels, watching Karkat crumble to pieces under him. He nuzzles at Karkat's cheek, giving his jaw a little nip with his teeth; he's not even sure Karkat  _ feels  _ it at this point, cause he sure doesn't react.

Well. He does react. Arms wraps around his neck further, the breaths between them hot and damp and messy, skin slicking together from their combined sweat, the musk so heavy in the room it makes  _ Dirk _ dizzy.

_ 'I l-love you...' _

Dirk's hips stutter, but his hands can't let go-. He- .. Oh fuck, nah,  _ nah, _ he's just thinking about Dave. Haha, good one...

Thrown off more than he'd like, but still so hard it hurts, he nibbles on Karkat's ear, muttering in a voice that clear and a little shaky, "Think you mean,  _ hate, _ Kitten.. Hate you so much my heart's fucking cavin' in." Wait, was that red to say???

Uh??? 

No, it's fine, he decides firmly, continuing to pant into Karkat's ear as he continues his piston into the tight,  _ moving  _ heat of Karkat's chute. Definitely not thinking about how Dave has been building up to say I love you to Karkat. Wow, it literally feels like his dick is about to be pushed out, it's so tight. 

Tight like his throat as he imagines Dave standing outside, listening to Karkat tell his  _ bro _ he loves him. 

If that was even what Karkat said, though. Could have been 'I loathe you'. A common mistake, he's sure. 

Not that he's even worried, cause Karkat  _ loves- _ loves,  _ Dave, _ of course. 

"I  _ hate _ you." He has to say it again, and he feels like he should bite and scratch and, well, hit him or something? To like, shake him out of the red-daze he's in, probably? 

Instead, he tucks his face into Karkat's neck and yelps out a groan, his orgasm pretty much taking him off guard. You know you're chill when you're thinking about something so much your brain doesn't correspond with your body.

Helpfully, Dirk wraps the tail of the nookworm around his own finger, and it curls around it tight. Watching Karkat's bulge suck itself into the sheath at the speed of sound would be funny if he wasn't so shook. Well, not shook, just. Enjoying the afterglow. All chill. 

Ok, no, don't freak out. It's dumb anyway, what even is love. Baby don't hurt me. 

Haha. 

Dirk firmly shakes his head, tempted to facepalm himself. This isn't even about him right now, there's a dude under him so fucked out he doesn't know who he's fucking-.. 

Oh. Namedrop. Well, that makes everything better. 

"Yeah, Kitten... I got you." 

Infinitely gently, he starts coaxing the nookworm out, pulling it out inch by inch. In the pamphlet, it said that you'd probably be afraid the nook would burst from all the liquid and the hard pull, but they'd reassured him it was fine. 

He knows why they put the warning in now. As he pulls, he feels the worm stretching and wriggling in protest as it's being pulled out of its food-hole. 

Inch by inch, ever so slowly. He kisses at Karkat in an almost-apology, gasping as he hears the squelch when the worm finally gives up and expels itself out. Even then, there's only a couple of drips of red from the troll's used nook, the puffy rim winking at him. 

Hot.

After also peeling the suckers away from Karkat's grub-scars, he reluctantly, quickly, efficiently, dumps the toy back into the tank and puts the lid on, then goes back to bed to curl up against Karkat, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him.

"There... Not gonna leave you, kittycat. You're - .. mine." Not  _ all _ his, like he wanted to say. That would- cause Dave is his matesprit, and Karkat  _ loves _ Dave. Loves  _ Dave. _ Dumb mistake, Karkat, wow. 

If it was anyone other than Karkat, he'd be out the door by now, he muses. But it is Karkat. 

He leans over him to grab a bottle of water, laying it behind Karkat and grabbing a blanket to pull over them both. He'll let Karkat enjoy the subspace though...

He deserves it. 

"You did so good, Kitten... Took it so well, know you'd be able to handle it.." He murmurs thing into his ear, soft but filthy, the only way he knows how to...

Man. Best buy  _ ever. _

As Karkat’s body calms down and the white noise fades from his ears, he notices that he’s still purring. That’s fine. Dirk deserves it, doesn’t he?

Dirk’s voice stops being a comforting lull and starts becoming words again. He can hear him saying  _ mine _ and  _ never going to leave you _ and  _ you did so well. _ He did do good, didn’t he? He made it. He took everything Dirk had to offer him.

With nothing left in him, he almost feels hollow.

Almost.

Dirk’s arms around him are enough to keep him together. He’s not sure he’d be okay without them.

He may not be able to open his eyes still, but he’s got enough sense about him to be able to feel the tension under Dirk’s soft words. He’d have to be more than blind not to see it, he knows Dirk too well at this point.

He gives a content sigh and turns his nose up under Dirk’s chin. His lips press softly into Dirk’s throat. “What’s the matter?” he asks. He only slurs it a little bit.

"nngh." Google has told him how much trust is needed for a troll to let someone kiss their throat, especially like this. 

Dirk tilts his head up a little more. 

The arms around Karkat tightens a little, and Dirk rubs his lips together a little. When did Karkat start to notice when he went to think-land..? He thought he covered it up pretty well. 

"... mm. Just. Nah, it ain't-.." important? But it's Dave they're talking about. Dave and Karkat. "I mean." Fuck. "Just. Was pretty funny how you said you...  _ love _ me. Like. Y'keep gettin' confused 'bout who's fucking you." 

He's not really smiling, but that's... Karkat can't see that. He huffs out a fake little hum of a laugh. "It's fine tho, your pupils were so dilated you'd think I drugged you. Drugged you with the amount of  _ hate _ I have for you, lol." 

Ugh, is it possible to ruin your own afterglow? The answer is yes. 

"Whatever man," he huffs, this time annoyed at himself. He leans his chin on Karkat's head, between his horns. "Told you it was dumb."

Karkat furrows his brows as Dirk continues to ramble, in a very Dave-like fashion. Is he nervous? What the fuck is he nervous for?

He only vaguely remembers saying it, but it’s there. His throat is dry and his words scratch against it when he speaks up again. “I wasn’t confused,” he says. “I do love you.” And he cuddles up tighter, because even if he still can’t quite think straight, he knows that’s the kind of thing that makes Dirk want to run away.

Don’t you dare fucking run away.

“You act like we haven’t been saying we hate each other for months. It’s the same fucking thing, jackass.” He nips at the underside of Dirk’s chin, in both reassurance and as bait to get him to come down for a kiss.

And maybe this little bit of banter is shattering his subspace a little, but that’s not exactly a bad thing. It feels normal. It feels good. It’s bringing him back up above water, so he can properly drown in the body beside him instead of his own mind.

Makes him realize how much his own body aches, though.

The little nip jolts him out of his little deer-in-headlights moment, and Dirk is shamefully quick to turn his head down and let Karkat press their lips together. 

Equally shamefully, his head is processing Karkat's words incredibly slowly. On autopilot, their lips squish together, his tongue has its own mind as he really thinks about it. 

It's not wrong, he concludes. From everything he's gathered online, Hate and Love is similar in troll culture. It's not a shock to him. 

It  _ shouldn't _ be anyway. 

"... Love and hate is different," he mumbles dumbly into their kiss, knowing he's actually kind of wrong but unwilling to admit it, "saying I love you to a kismesis is- I haven't-" read that anywhere, but they've already had that talk. 

A pause, filled with more kissing. 

"And man, what about  _ Dave?" _ Okay, it's stressing him out a  _ smidge, _ he'll admit that like the adult he is, "he's been-.. Man, I don't want to out him here, but he's so fucking obvious, he's been  _ waiting  _ to tell you-???" Oh shit he actually said it, ok, ready yourself for a fucking discussion, Dirk Strider, oh god. 

He just wants to fuck his boyfriend  _ without _ it turning into a huge fucking issue, for once. Gog damn...

Rapid fire, Dirk calls him out on his maybe slightly unconventional quadrant use and then brings up  _ Dave _ and Karkat’s head spins between the two things before he settles on a frown.

“I _ know _ Dave’s been trying to say it. Don’t even get me started on that, because it’s a conversation we won’t ever have enough time for. I’m being patient with him, but he’s just-- I fucking,  _ ugh-...” _ He kisses Dirk again, hard to shut himself up before he starts ranting about the whole fucking Dave mess.

It’s not that he’s not willing to wait for Dave, but  _ come on. _ They both know what’s happening and he doesn’t know what the fuck Dave is waiting for. Okay, that’s not true. He’s too much of a romantic to not get his nook wet thinking about what kind of grand gesture Dave might be planning. But that’s not the topic of conversation right now.

“And you’re right. They’re different. The way I love him and the way I love you aren’t the same. I  _ hate _ you with every fiber of my being. But sometimes…” His face goes warm again with what he’s trying to say. But sometimes  _ what. _ Sometimes Dirk makes him soft. So fucking what? He’s allowed to have feelings. 

“Sometimes it bleeds a little,” he says in a rush, and if  _ that _ wasn’t the wrong fucking thing to say, goddamnit. He knows Dirk has the fucking trollpedia articles on quadrants memorized, and now he’s going to freak out again. “Just-- shut the fuck up and let me have this, okay? You’re not taking up Dave’s space. It’s your space. Neither of you will ever outshadow the other. Relax. Me and Dave are fine. And so are you.”

It  _ bleeds?!! _

Okay,  _ panic. _ You are hereby allowed to panic, oh god, he's  _ stealing Karkat away from Dave,  _ and he already tried to reassure Dave he wasn't. Sound the fucking alarms--

_ 'You're not taking up Dave's space.' -.. _ Uh, ok? They're... fine..? 

...

He tightens his arms around Karkat a little again, cause his arms felt like they were holding nothing for a second. He looks Karkat in the eye, looking for lies. When he sees none, he pretty much smashes their lips together, brows furrowed hard. He exhales, letting himself relax a little, on Karkat's suggestion. 

It's cool. They're cool. They even-... Talked about it, kinda? He said his piece. 

"Yeah, Dave is ..." But he can't really find anything bad to say, cause he's so fucking sweet. And he doesn't  _ want _ to say anything dumb about Dave either. "He's workin' on it. Promise." Polyamory sure is hard. 

Quadrants, of course. That's what he meant. 

He gives Karkat another kiss, resting his head on the pillow, looking up to Karkat tiredly. ".. Well. You  _ are _ awfully cute when you purr like a lil' kitten.." He smirks a little, closing his eyes.

“Fuck off, I’m not cute,” Karkat huffs. “It wasn’t even that good, you’re just fucking cocky.”

He pouts in a way that definitely does not support his argument, and he ends up burying his face against Dirk’s chest again. “Everything hurts, bastard. You better not let go of me until I say so.”

_ Love, _ who the fuck was he kidding. It’s impossible to feel soft for someone as aggravating as Dirk strider. The fact that it happened is not proof. It’ll never happen again, and at this point, he’ll deny it to his fucking grave.

God forbid Dirk start to use it against him. The way he wooed him at work that afternoon was already enough to make his heart stop, he doesn’t need Dirk hurling even more romance at him. He won’t be able to handle it.

“I hate you,” he says, and he means for it to be a lot more firm than it comes out, all soft and muffled my Dirk’s t-shirt.  _ Because Dirk is still dressed after all that, _ like that asshole that he is. Can’t even let Karkat enjoy a naked cuddle after. 

"Mhmhm..." Dirk chuckles a little, and that part of him that was still clenched in anticipation for a fight and for some panic starts loosening up as they fall back into their usual banter. 

That's what he's used to. Karkat trying to be mad at him, but Dirk fucked him too good... That  _ deserved _ softness, the 'hate you'. 

Dirk shifts a round a little, annoyed that he never got to fully undress. Now he has to sleep like this, cause he's not letting go of Karkat that quickly. 

"yeah yeah, you're the least cutest, and you totally didn't come like, ten times. Totally." He knows the exact number of course, since he has a tally, but who doesn't like some exaggeration sometimes. 

Suddenly feeling a lot better, he lets all his muscles go slack, and he moans out quietly in satisfaction. Karkat is so nice and warm, and the two of them under the duvet makes for a pretty toasty cocoon. 

He gives one of Karkat's horns a little kiss, then nuzzles his face into Karkat's hair. "Hate you too."

If that makes his heart pound a little faster, that's probably just some left over adrenaline. 

Weird, that, ‘cause after only a couple of minutes, he's out like a light.


	12. Dirk/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> really, uhh... heed that incest tag this time. cuddles turned heavy petting.

It’s been weeks now, since Dave realized that he was pale for Dirk. He still hasn’t exactly said it out loud, but he doesn’t need to. There’s no reason for him to freak Dirk out like that, when they’ve been doing just fine the way they are.

He melts every single time Dirk gives him a smile, or lays his head on his shoulder when they’re watching TV, or tells him good night before heading to bed, or… is just, there, being Dirk in the same room as him. It makes his heart swell and beat just a little bit faster. He’s happy that Dirk can touch him without panicking. That he can hold his hand and cuddle with him and it doesn’t make his spine stiffen. That he can  _ relax _ Dirk. Because Dirk deserves to relax. Dirk deserves to be happy.

It’s one of those days, now. Karkat’s been at work all day, and he plans to spend the night with one of his friends, so Dirk and Dave have had the house to themselves. They spend the afternoon eating takeout and watching cartoons. Talking. Laughing. Enjoying each other’s company and being  _ pale as all fuck. _ Really, the fact that Dirk hasn’t picked up on it by now is a miracle, but the man is dense as fuck, and Dave knows it, so he can let it go.

They’re in Dave’s bed again now. It’s not late, it’s only about ten o’clock. But Dirk started getting that look in his eye, that told Dave more than words could about how chill Dirk was, and that it was time to get their fucking cuddle on. And the TV is only a distraction, so. Bed time.

They’re chest to chest-- or, well. Dave’s got his own hands pulled up to his chin, and his face is in Dirk’s chest. Dirk’s arms around him. His eyes are closed, listening to Dirk’s chest rise and fall as he breathes. They hadn’t even bothered with the covers, choosing to lay on top of them instead. It’s warm enough that they really only need each other to stay comfortable.

Neither of them has said anything for several minutes.

If there were to be one single thing that was good about Dirk airing his dirty laundry to the rest of the world, to tell Dave that he was horribly fucked up, it must have been this. 

Dirk had felt cold at the thought of Dave slowly slipping away from him, getting his own life; probably with Karkat, and they'd both move away and leave Dirk in this apartment to rot for all of eternity... 

He's never felt closer to Dave than they've been now these past couple of weeks. 

It's not just the cuddling, though man, the cuddling is rad as all fuck. It's.. The easy shoulder-brushing, the comfortable silences, the  _ smiles, _ fuck, sometimes he'll be feeling like shit, and then Dave just  _ knows, _ and then the bad shit isn't so bad after all. And he likes to think he can pull Dave out of his funk, too. 

Dave is such a funny little man. So shy of strangers, so hard to get to shut up once he starts talking. A very good rapper, and Dirk is proud for teaching him. Sometimes, they just freestyle at each other, and if it gets a little mushy and weird and soft, and they end up laughing, and nudging at each other from their own dumbness... 

Dirk brings a hand up to smoothe the smile away from his face at the memory, then slides it over Dave's hair lovingly, closing his eyes. 

It's not even that late, but they both wanted to cuddle. Dirk could totally see it in Dave's eyes that it was  _ time, _ the way his eyes went half-lidded, the almost fake little yawn. 

A soft hum he knows vibrates in his chest. Dave's hair is so soft. Softer than his, though that's probably because of the chloride in the pool he frequents combined with the ungodly amount of product he puts in it. So soft, when his fingers gently comb through it, it feels a little cool to the touch, like water slipping between his fingers. 

Feels nice. Dave on top of him is so warm and comfortable... He can't think of a single better way to fall asleep right now.

The hand in Dave’s hair makes him shift a little, but he’s… fine. He feels good still. Not good like-- like he  _ likes _ the hand in his hair or anything, but just-- regular good. Totally and definitely the kind of good that Dirk is comfortable with.

He tries to let it slide, to settle in again to their comfortable silence. Minutes pass, though, and Dirk doesn’t stop petting his hair. He shifts a little, again. And then again. He tucks his chin down, like he can hide from it, like he’s not basically starting to squirm for it. His face is hot and his hands are clenched into fists between their bodies.

He has to say something. He can’t just--  _ god _ that feels good. Dirk’s fingers scratch gently, innocently behind his ear, before carding back up into his hair and massaging slowly into his scalp.

“Bro,” he squeaks. The pitch to his voice borders between obviously horny and something scared and maybe he’s both. He can feel it pooling in his gut and starting to make his cock twitch, and the last thing he needs at this point in their relationship is to freak Dirk out and set them back twenty steps again.

“Maybe, u m,” his voice cracks, and he has to clear his throat before he can keep going. “Maybe like, uh, cool it with the petting… please…”

Dirk notices that Dave has problems settling in. That's unusual. It is really fucking sweet when he hides his face between them though. 

He continues stroking at Dave's hair, hoping that it'll soothe him, calm him down. He always liked it when he was still young, he'd get all blissed out and quiet, even when he was really agitated. 

When Dave tells him to stop, he blinks and looks down to try to meet his gaze. 

"Hmm..?" He does stop of course, hand a firm weight on Dave's skull. His voice  _ cracking, _ is he crying or something..? 

But no, he just looks flustered. Maybe he finds it embarrassing. "Mmm.. 'n why should I do that? I thought this was cuddle-time, lil' dude, petting is part of that, isn't it..?" 

He slides his hand down the back of Dave's head to rest at the base of his neck, and he sighs quietly, contently. He won't argue, if Dave is adamant, it just seems odd.

“Y eah, I guess,” Dave starts. Heat rolls through him when Dirk  _ doesn’t stop, _ but then… Dirk’s hand settles on the back of his neck. He lets out a relieved breath and relaxes again. “I’m just, like…” He trips over his words. He doesn’t necessarily owe Dirk an explanation, but if he hopes to avoid incidents like this in the future, he should say something, right?

He doesn’t actually mind it. He  _ likes _ it. He would love for Dirk to keep doing it. But Dirk is the one who would be hurt by it, and that shit just won’t fly. Dave will never do anything to hurt Dirk, and that’s on period. No matter how deft his mechanic’s fingers are, or how they might feel  _ pulling _ on Dave’s hair.

He clears his throat again.

“You can do it a little bit. But not, a lot. For a long period of time, I mean. I’m just, like. Sensitive. I guess. To that. My hair. Uh. Not like you were hurting me or anything. The opposite, actually. Not that kind of sensitive. Like horny sensitive.  _ \--I’m not horny or anything, _ forget it, jesus christ. Just like. Yeah. Thanks for stopping.”

What the fuck. Learn to keep your mouth shut, Dave. You definitely didn’t have to say all that shit. He’s going to leave you now and you’re going to have to start all over again gaining his trust back.

Dirk stays quiet as he lets Dave ramble out his... Weird explanation. Apology. 

Why is he apologizing? 

It dawns on him the longer Dave trip-raps over his words, and he strokes a thumb soothingly over the nape of Dave's neck while his brain jumpstarts. 

His first thought is of course, that he has irreparably damaged Dave to the point of no return. He's made Dave into some kind of Pavlov'd sexslave. But then he continues his little rant, and it's obvious that he's.. Resisting. Or. That's not the right word, not when it's obvious he's resisting  _ being _ aroused. 

Dirk's sharp wit decides to make a rare appearance, and it strikes him that Dave  _ wants _ him to continue petting his hair. Despite the fact that he gets mind numbingly horny from it. 

Dave is horny right now. With the two of them like this. 

Dilemma. Davelemma. 

"I ..." Already sure that he can  _ not _ let go of Dave, that he can't let go and let things go back to the way they were, too content to have this closeness, he very gently rakes his fingers through Dave's hair again. 

"O...kay..." he says it slowly, matter of fact, like this is a problem they can work on. Like he doesn't have only one solution. He leans his mouth against Dave's temple, wanting to murmur something, but it sticks to his throat. 

The silence is stifling, makes his heart pound so hard and fast he's sure Dave can feel it. He's not sure what to say. Everything in him tells him Dave  _ wants _ this, and he's pretty sure that as long as Dave wants it, he himself won't be able to stop.

Infinitely softly, he begs, "Dave, tell me to stop if you don't like-... If you don't like it, anything." He nuzzles into Dave's scalp, squeezing his eyes shut, sighing, his breath a warm breeze through hairstrands. 

His other hand smoothes at Dave's back, holding him, cradling him. He realizes Dave is hard. He's not sure if he's sorry yet.

Dave is sure that Dirk is going to stop, but he’s unsure for a long moment if that also means that he’s going to pull away completely. It scares him, it nearly makes his heart stop, thinking that he’s broken this thing between them that he’s worked so hard to fix. 

He can hear Dirk’s heart pounding away in his chest, and it lends him just enough comfort, to know that it matches his own. To feel like they’re together again, and that maybe Dirk won’t run away from him.

And then Dirk’s fingers push through his hair again, and they are  _ not _ in sync anymore, because his heart rate sky rockets. He chokes out Dirk’s name before he can stop himself and leans into the touch, into Dirk’s mouth,  _ the fucking kiss is too much, _ jesus christ. Dirk is too good for him, he doesn’t need to do this--

“You don’t need to do this,” he says out loud. His voice is already soft and breathy, though, and he knows that it betrays the fact that he  _ wants _ Dirk to do it. He’s been so careful all this time, not to let things tip in a direction that might scare Dirk off, but now…

Here he is. And Dirk hasn’t been scared off.

Yet.

“I will,” he promises belatedly, hurried. “I’ll tell you, I swear. It’s okay, I--”  _ I think about this all the time, _ “I’m m ore than okay with it.”

He  _ has _ gotten a little braver in the last few weeks. Chancing kisses to Dirk’s cheek or touching him for maybe just a little too long. It’s self indulgent, sure, but it wasn’t hurting anyone. Dirk even seemed to take comfort in it, so maybe… Maybe he’ll take comfort in this, too. In knowing that it makes Dave feel good.

His legs shift, where they’re tangled with Dirk’s. He’s got one stuffed between Dirk’s thighs, which was fine before this, but now the fact that they’re pressed hip to hip might be a little compromising. He wonders if Dirk can tell that he’s hard already.

Dirk breathes out slowly, instead of the huge heave of a sigh he wants to release. He was right. He didn't- force himself on Dave, he didn't- he didn't hurt him, not today anyway. 

He'll have to trust Dave. He's lucky that Dave's one of the few people he _ dares _ to trust. 

"I trust you." It's short, but it's the only thing his tight chest will allow him to utter. Dave will understand. Lately, he feels like Dave understands so much. It makes his heart ache, but not in a bad way. 

Emboldened, he scritches a little at Dave's scalp, giving Dave another kiss to the top of his head. Despite feeling Dave's hard-on poking at him a little, he feels like the position is too comfortable to change. As of now anyway. Perversely, or maybe a bit less so, he feels his own cock harden a little at the prospect of this turning heavier. 

Dirk wouldn't  _ dream _ of initiating that ... kind of thing, for himself, with Dave. That's.. No, he won't do that, not now. Now is just ... Cuddles, now with extra features. In stores now for only half your moral compass. 

Luckily, Dave can not read thoughts. He wouldn't think Dirk was  _ half  _ as cool as he thinks if he knew the dumb things he thinks about during sex. 

NOT that this is sex, by any means, yet!

Now suddenly not sure how to maximize Dave's pleasure through hair-stroking, he starts experimenting; soft soothing over the hair, fingers raking through, fingertips tickling his hairlines, a gentle little pull to the hair attached to the back of his head.

Dirk is assaulted by images of what he could do. Trail kisses down Dave's neck, sneak a hand down to play with him, whisper filthy things... 

But it's so different. He honestly doesn't know how to continue, and he suddenly feels bad for laughing at virgins in movies he's watched, if this was how they felt. So nervous they're about to shake apart, hoping he won't do anything wrong. 

"Dave..." 

He's not sure what he's asking for, but he moves a little closer, his own thigh going between Dave's legs, locking them together a little more firmly.

Dave sucks in a sharp breath when Dirk starts to  _ tug _ at his hair. It’s gentle, and it shouldn’t be anywhere near as erotic as it is, but fuck if it doesn’t make him full body shudder. 

The normal amount of arousal he would be feeling right now is only amplified by the fact that it’s  _ Dirk. _ That Dirk just told him he trusts him. That he’s letting Dave have this, and maybe,  _ maybe, _ he wants it too.

He whines a little, tugging just enough against the hold in his hair to get Dirk to pull again. Every move is careful, measured. He feels like he’s walking on eggshells, even though they’ve both agreed already that this is okay.

“Fuck,” he mutters. His heart is hammering and he feels like he’s never done this before. “I don’t want this to be weird. I just… So I’m just going to tell you what I want, okay? And you can take it from there… What you want...”

He chews his lip, thankful that Dirk has his mouth buried in his hair and isn’t looking at him. It takes willpower for him to not just start grinding into Dirk. “I like… the petting. Pulling. Just… playing with it, honestly, fucking anything. It’s like a goddamn drug for me.” He swallows the lump in his throat. This goes against everything he’s been trying to  _ prevent _ so far.

“...I want… I want you to touch me… and kiss me… I love it when you hold me like this…” The arm wrapped around him, stroking along his back, is just… it’s so fucking good, in a way that he’s never experienced with another person before. It’s just cuddling, it shouldn’t make him so hot, but it does.

Tentatively, he lets one of his fists unfold to slide down between them. He lays his hand flat over Dirk’s hip, and slides it up, just under his shirt. He stops there, feeling the heat of Dirk’s skin in his hand. It’s so tender and so soft, it makes him feel like he can’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry…” he says, even quieter, because he feels  _ bad. _ He shouldn’t be pushing this on Dirk, after everything that Dirk’s been through. It’s sick. It’s got to be like torture. He should stop, what the fuck, he should  _ stop. _

He pulls his hand away with a suddenness that makes his whole body move away from Dirk. It’s only an inch or so, but he can breath again. He’s nearly panting.

"No-.." A cold jolt goes through Dirk as Dave suddenly rips his hand away from Dirk like he's been shocked, forcing him out of the weird trance Dave put him in, the cocoon Dave swaddled him in with soft words and a softer touch. 

"What- no, don't be sorry-" Dirk's brows draw up in confused sadness, leaning back enough that he can look Dave in the eye. "I can- we've been touching for so long now." As if that justifies it. It looks like someone just told Dave he had cancer. 

"I'm just-.. We just." Fuck, and here it comes. How Dirk _ can't _ control how he enjoys Dave's touch, how he relishes in seeing how good Karkat made him feel, how nice it was to share Karkat, when he never ever enjoyed sharing with anyone before. 

When he can't find the words, he brushes their lips together, barely a kiss, eyes wide on Dave to make sure he's not pulling back in disgusted recoil. Brushes their lips together again, a shiver going through him. 

"I hope you.. That I didn't. Fuck you up. I've fucked you up in different ways, 'know I have, but this... I can't- I don't know what's  _ right. I'm _ sorry."

He strokes through Dave's hair, knowing what it does to him, and closes his eyes to hide, "I want this, and I'm sorry. I'll be okay if you don't want it Dave. I promise."

It's a blatant lie, but it's a necessary one. He can't push Dave away if he wants this as much as Dirk does, but if he's doing this out of guilt- because he feels Dirk would somehow feel better for this..? 

He knows what the worse choice is, and he'd rather hurt from a broken heart than a broken Dave.

So, he continues playing with Dave's hair, eyes a little too wide to be calm, shoulders rigid. Unsure. He wishes he hadn't played with Dave's hair at all, he's so swallowed up in sudden guilt and nervous energy.

Dirk’s words are filled with a desperately nervous energy, and Dave feels bad all over again for making him feel this way. But then… then Dirk kisses him, and plays with his hair again, and everything melts away.

He fists his hand in Dirk’s shirt and pulls him back in to kiss him for real. He’s confident with it, pressing into Dirk with his lips and his body. This is it, no more pussyfooting bullshit. If he wants to lay in bed and makeout with his brother, then he’s going to fucking do it, goddamnit.

His brother, who makes him feel the safest. The most at home. His diamond.

His eyes closed somewhere along the line of kissing Dirk like his life depends on it, but he opens them now, halfway, dark, clouded with what he doesn’t need to hide anymore. “Pull my hair harder…” he says, and then he’s wrapping an arm around Dirk’s neck and kissing him again.

Dave's kiss feels like an attack. An avalanche maybe. Something that changes everything. 

Dirk feels how weak he is against Dave's kiss, awkward. That shit needs to stop. What is he, a blushing maiden? Feeling Dave being more confident erases some of that guilt-bordering-on-panic clenching in his stomach, replaced with heat that starts as a hot coal in his throat, but then spreads more kindly down his chest and into his stomach. 

More than anything, Dirk wants to reassure Dave more somehow, take charge, show him that yeah, this is perfect, this is how you do it. This is sword-fighting 202, but with dicks, or at least tongues.

Instead, he dips in to kiss Dave again, only to pull Dave away from it by his hair, fisting the locks firmly. "Yeah.." 

Still a little hesitant, but at least not tethering on the edge of running away, he grinds his thigh against Dave's hard-on, sighing into the kiss, "So hard already, hmm... Insert sword-joke here." 

A little weak, but it's the best he can come up with. He trails kisses from Dave's chin and towards an ear, lost, but for once not really minding it. 

He can trust Dave.

Dave sucks in a sharp gasp when Dirk tugs him away by his hair. It flares in him, throbs all the way through him and makes his cock twitch. And then Dirk is grinding his thigh into it,  _ mother fuck. _

“Yeah,” he agrees, breathy. “Told you what it does to me…” he squeezes his eyes shut and lets the tingling in his scalp drive his hips down into Dirk’s thigh. He knows he told Dirk to pull harder, but there’s so much more to it than that. Dirk pulled his _ whole body _ by it, took control of him, made him struggle to get those lips back against his own.

He’s fighting the way his body is trying to start trembling. They’ve barely done anything, he shouldn’t be this worked up… But the idea of it alone is enough to get Dave worked up, and his mind is racing so much further ahead than they currently are.

He imagines himself on his knees, Dirk fucking into him, holding him up by his hair. Pulling hard, lips on his neck, whispering those sweet dirty things to him that he’s overheard him using on Karkat.

Making him go down on him, holding him by the hair to keep him down. Unable to breathe, tugging, controlling- fuck. 

He’s ahead of himself.

There’s a fist in his hair  _ now _ and Dirk is right fucking here. He doesn’t need to fantasize about it.

He grinds into Dirk’s thigh again and gives a needy little moan. The arm around Dirk has gone loose, his other hand lying uselessly between them. He wants to touch Dirk, but he feels like he’s more or less given that privilege up for now. How much more control will Dirk take?

“I’ve been waiting for you… For this,” he says, cracking an eye open to look at Dirk. “Didn’t want to scare you…”

It's weird, because Dirk can see so much of what Dave is thinking. He can see the way he zones out, imagining probably something a lot more heftier, a lot more raunchier than some ol' bump'n'grind. 

Dirk sees it when Dave realizes that they're together right now. Together and doing this and that they're both into it. 

Dirk sees they're  _ both _ into it. He can't actually look away. Can't help but see if there are clues of discomfort, of avoided gazes, of his dick going limp or that he scrunches his brows up as if he's about to cry-

Fuck. It's nothing like that. There's not a hint of that, he's just projecting. Again. 

Dave is so on board with this, it turns on Dirk in return, despite his chaotic mind. It feels... So good. Feels so good to see Dave panting in arousal, knowing that he did good by Dave. 

If only he  _ knew, _ rather than wished. Only time will tell, he supposes. 

To distract himself from that somber thought, he lathers soft kisses in the dip right under Dave's ear, breath coming out in big huffs, tongue sliding over the skin briefly, testing. 

Dave's been  _ waiting? _ He has to chuckle a little, helpless. There aren’t a lot of things in the world that scare him, but not knowing if he's hurting the one thing he's tried to protect his whole life? 

The hand in Dave’s hair tugs his head to the side so he can kiss at Dave's neck more freely. He doesn't even dare nibble; or maybe he just doesn't want to. This doesn't feel black at all. This just feels like... Like... 

Not red either. It's not red, it's  _ Dave. _ That's all it is. 

"What else feels good, Dave..?" He murmurs it into the space between his ear and his jaw, kissing up to his cheekbone, grinding his thigh against firmer, not moving it a lot, encouraging Dave to keep rolling his hips, get off on him like this. 

He chuckles again, "It's kinda hilarious; you  _ know _ I can't say no to you... I'd give you  _ anything, _ Dave. Anything in the world."

It's probably gross how true it is.

“Anything…” Dave repeats, like he’s in a daze. Dirk’s mouth on his neck and the hand in his hair are the perfect combination to make him go cross eyes and leave him in a puddle on the bed. And the thigh grinding into him, it’s the perfect icing on the cake.

Despite the vivid fantasies he just played out in his head, he can’t help but feeling like… maybe they should take this slow. He tugs at Dirk’s shirt anyway, because at  _ least _ they can take those off.

They shuffle around, until they’re both laid there shirtless, and Dirk is rolled half on top of him.  _ Anything _ still echoes in his mind, and he hasn’t forgotten Dirk’s question. Dirk’s reassurances that he won’t be told no make him take the opportunity to say exactly what he’s thinking.

“I kind of  _ really _ want you to fuck me…” he says. The hand that’s still in his hair makes his eyes flutter as he says it. “But… not yet. Maybe not today at all. I don’t know. I just really like kissing you… and I like you kissing my neck and pulling my hair and just… being close. This,” he says, with a roll of his hips up into Dirk to punctuate. He’s not sure how slow grinding and kissing is the hottest thing they could be doing right now, but it sure the fuck is. He hasn’t even tried to open his pants yet, despite how hard he is.

“I want you to kiss me full of bruises, and just… touch me…” he says. He should probably feel ashamed to be saying any of this, but he’s not. He’s wanted this for so long, and knowing that Dirk is at least willing to hear him out makes him feel brave. He’s been thinking about it since that first time they fucked Karkat together, and maybe even before that.

There’s just something about the way Dirk uses his hands… the look he gets in his eye, when he’s determined to make Karkat cum. Dave wants him to look at  _ him _ like that.

Despite that Dirk is one hundred percent sure that he would do anything for Dave this moment, the relief is still palpable when Dave says he wants to go slow. It wouldn't have been a problem, to go all the way to day, probably, it would just... 

They've been so careful until now. A big part of him wants to preserve that, if only for a little while longer. 

"Yeah... Yeah, okay." He nods, shoving his shirt off to the floor, pressing their chests together with a little sigh. 

Dave is not as warm as Karkat, but the heat is familiar and safe and  _ Dave. _ It would be hard for him to  _ not  _ relax. He wraps his arm around Dave again, smoothing Dave's bangs out of his eye, smiling reassuringly at him. 

If Dirk is feeling nervous, then Dave probably feels all nerve wrecked. Big bro Dirk is here to save the day, don't worry. 

His smile widens fractionally, and he tugs the ends of Dave's hair, planting a soft, squishy kiss to his lips, then tilting his head to the side to continue kissing down Dave's now fully exposed neck, giving the skin soft sucks, gentle enough that it won't bruise. Dave  _ said _ he wanted it to bruise, but-... 

It's more comfortable with just touching and gentle touches. One hand is stroking over Dave's side, down to his hip and back up again, his other knuckling Dave's chin up to give Dirk more place to play with before raking through his locks again. 

"You wanna hump my leg...? Be my guest, was kinda thinkin' you'd be going at it already, 's hard as you are." He punctuates his statement with another firm tug to the roots of Dave's hair, chuckling a little at how affected Dave is.

As if he's not achingly hard, himself.

“Mmn n…” Dave’s face grows hot with the offer. Just because he’s resigned himself to not feeling guilty anymore, doesn’t mean being talked to like that isn’t kind of fucking humiliating. But... in that gentle way Dirk has reserved just for him.

Gently degrading. Who knew that was a thing.

He takes the bait, though, because fuck yeah he wants to hump his brothers leg. As he raises his hips to do just that, he realizes that Dirk… _ agreed _ to wanting to fuck him. He may want to take it slow, but he said  _ yes. _

Dave whimpers openly as he rocks his hips up and down Dirk’s thigh. The friction isn’t amazing, between both their pairs of pants keeping his dick from touching Dirk’s skin, but it really is the thought that counts. It’s Dirk that counts. It’s the lips on his neck and the hand in his hair and caressing his body and the little needy breaths he’s puffing next to Dirk’s ear. It’s their chests pressed together and the heartbeat he can feel against his own.

“Dirk…” he whimpers. He could do this all fucking night. It feels good, so fucking good, but it’s not enough to finish him off, and he’s sure the same can be said for Dirk. But finishing isn’t really the point right now.

He finally manages to find his hands, and he uses them to reach up and take a hold of Dirk’s hips. He starts to tug him down, gently, with a, “You too…” He wants Dirk to thrust against him, so he can feel how hard Dirk is too… He wants to know that Dirk is enjoying this. He needs it.

Dave's whimper sends a jolt of heat straight to Dirk’s belly, and he sighs somewhat shakily as he forces his leg a little firmer between Dave’s, aware that there probably isn't a lot of friction. 

With himself being so focused on his own vulnerability, he's forgotten that Dave also had walls up, for the longest of times. He'd been drifting away, probably hating it as much as Dirk has been, has been longing to open himself up again, let Dirk see his soft side-.. And Dirk is seeing it. 

It could actually make him cry if he thought too much about it though, so he refrains. Scrapes his nails over Dave's scalp, twirls the locks close to his ear around his finger and pulls a little, gently suckling at Dave's neck, as gentle as he knows how. 

So focused is he on Dave's body, he jolts when hands are suddenly on his hips, urging him down. 

Oh right. Dirk also has a body. The ache of his arousal flares, as if offended that he forgot it. "Ugh-.." A suddenly distracted nod, and he lays more weight on Dave, certain he can take it, knows how strong he is. (Had to be, had to fight to stay alive, had to work out or suffer for it-)

"Yeah-.. oka-mmh...okay." His clothed dick is rubbing against Dave's thigh, and his usual instinct is competition. He rubs his own thigh against Dave's arousal, wanting to hear more sounds, gain back some control-..

Yeah. Instinct. He tries pulling himself out of it, slowing down, sighing shakily to let off some of the steam, his free hand smoothing over the expanse of Dave's back, tracing over bumps and lines and soft flesh, a helpless little sound of pleasure breathing over his neck before Dirk continues suckling at it.

"Shit, Dave..." He's stumped, not sure what to say. Dirty-talk doesn't feel right here, it'll dissolve into something... not them. So again, he tries expressing himself with his body, the hand in Dave's hair smoothing almost frantically through it, trying to tell him how good he is through that alone, how perfect he is. 

He wants the pants off, and he doesn't. He doesn't know if that's too soon, how that can even be too soon considering they shared Karkat the way they did. Imagining Dave's soft but firm thigh against his naked dick, Dave's hot member against his own, their dicks touching, a firm hand squeezing them together.. 

"Ahh-.." He mashes their bodies together more, pushing so their chests meet, noting with surprise that he might actually be a hint more slender than Dave, less muscled, or rather more wiry. He's more surprised to note he doesn't hate it. "Dave..." Okay, now he's just repeating himself. 

Biting his lip to stop dumb things from spilling out, he starts slowly grinding, easily finding a rhythm between them, already in synch from the get-go. Dirk feels warm inside-out.

Dirk keeps saying his name, and every single time, it sends another hot wave through Dave’s entire body. As Dirk presses more firmly against him, a deep kind of satisfaction fills him, and there’s no other way to describe it than just  _ good.  _ He feels amazing, Dirk kissing him, Dirk touching him, he’s practically blissed out already, and this is only the beginning.

The soft kisses on his neck are good, the little tugs in his hair are good, but… “You don’t have to be so gentle with me…” he says quietly. It’s not that he wants Dirk to be  _ rough _ with him, at least not yet, it’s just. “I won’t break. I don’t want you to feel like you have to hold back…”

He keeps his hands on Dirk’s hips, until he doesn’t. He slides between them and cautiously tugs at the hem of Dirk’s sweatpants, a question. He waits for Dirk to tell him no, but when he doesn’t, he keeps going. In a shuffle of movements, he’s got both their pants tucked out of the way, and with a shift of his hips--

They touch.

Dave gasps and arches into Dirk.  _ ”Pull my hair, bro,” _ he says, and even if it’s breathless, it’s still clearly a demand. A plea. Something to take that spark he feels from his cock finally touching hot skin and pull it all the way up his spine.

He gets a fist wrapped around them both and thrusts once. A muted little  _ ”fuck” _ falls from his lips as Dirk gives an extra enthusiastic suck at his neck. His eyes roll back and his body shudders as he takes a shaking breath.

_ But I want to.  _

Dirk holds the words behind his teeth, swallows then and cradles it in his chest. There's a limit to how fucking sappy he can get, it's around where he starts simpering. 

To let Dave know he heard him he nods, and latches onto a spot on Dave' neck he's been nursing, sucking it hard between his teeth and letting the vacuum do the work, popping off the area before the mark gets really red. 

Seeing the mark makes him warm and a little uncertain. He wonders how Karkat is going to react to this. He hopes Karkat won't mind. 

He hopes _ Dave _ won't mind, once the haze of arousal has settled. Again the unwelcome thought of Dirk using Dave floats up from the deep, but he pushes it down firmly. 

Dirk will just have to  _ trust _ Dave. 

Hands slide into his waistband, and he moans out in heated surprise, looking down to see Dave tugging at it questioningly. Fuck-.. Fuck, well, okay, yeah, sure. The words won't come out though, so he just continues nibbling a little at Dave's neck, helping him get both their pants off in half-awkward shuffles. 

Then his fantasy comes true, their dicks touching, and Dave gasps so sweetly Dirk wants to  _ hold _ him. 

_ 'Pull my hair, bro'  _ \-- and how the fuck can he say no to that? His arousal goes from ember to blue flame, his hand fisting hard at the hair on the back of Dave's head, tugging his head forcefully to one side so he has a better view of the hickey he just made. Seeing the way it affects his lil bro is  _ intoxicating, _ makes his breath come out in something like a moan.

"Sh-shit-" Dave is really going for it, isn't he, Dirk thinks deliriously as a hand grips his dick, and there's another dick there, and there's a fucking dick-party in that fist, a tango for two and a hand and  _ God it feels good.  _

He attacks Dave's neck again, now with more vigour, more teeth involved. He still is miles upon miles gentler with Dave than he'd ever be with Karkat, but a dude like him can only be so gentle for so long. 

Dirk's hand is still holding Dave's hair firm, giving it a little tug now and then just to keep Dave's head in place, remind him why it's there, his other hand moving up between them to pinch at a nipple, rolling it between his fingers with small pulls to each cycle, kissing his way down to the second one, circling the areola with his tongue before giving the nipple a sharp little suck. 

"Anythin' for you, lil' bro..." His back is bent a little weird to reach Dave's chest, so he kisses his way back up again, lips dragging over soft skin breath huffing over Dave's chest, his hips starting to buck up into Dave's grip.

Dave can’t _ take _ the way Dirk digs into him, now that his hand is wrapped around their dicks. He’s not sure how Dirk does it, but he bites  _ just _ hard enough, sucks  _ just _ rough enough, and the  _ grip in his hair… _ It’s all perfectly stimulating, without the actual hurt, and it’s just so so so fucking erotic.

“Ff uck, Dirk, shi t- S-so good nn m...”

He’s writhing under his brother now, moving, too caught up in it. Dirk thrusts into his hand-- and he thrusts, too. His breath shakes as pre leaks around his fingers, and he smears it with Dirk’s as they continue to fuck into each other.

“‘m not…” he tries to start, but the words feel like mush in his mouth. He moans around each syllable, wound tight. “‘m not gonna last…”

Another pump of pre leaks out of him, and he whines with it. Every little tug and sharp pull in his hair sets him reeling that much harder, pushes him that much closer to the edge. “Kiss me…” he mumbles. As much as he’s loving the attention to his skin, he’d love to feel Dirk’s lips on his even more. His tongue in his mouth, the taste of him, that slow and sticky slide of muscle.

With Dave practically melting under Dirk, something in his heart loosens, relaxes, make his shoulders finally sag. This is definitely what Dave wants, Dave can't hold onto a fib for more than approximately five minutes before breaking under the pressure, and this is... 

This is just good, 

"Hairpulling -" a small grunt as Dave squeezes their dicks together more firmly, "really gets to you, huh..?" His breath is coming faster, and it picks up even more at the thought of Dave coming like this, Dirk wrapped around him, pleading for Dirk to mess him up. 

Dirk groans deeply as he feels both of their precome slicking up Dave's palms, gives them the kind of glide they need. Again, here is where Dirk will have to be prepared next time; lotion somewhere visible so he won't forget it, maybe a fleshlight they can share. Fuck yes, that's a good one-..

And isn't Dave just becoming Bossy McBoss over here, demanding kisses and bites and harder and more? Dirk's first thought is to tease him, make him blush and huff and mumble in embarrassment, make him beg and squeak and look up at him with that pout of his-.. 

A little too soon, though. Right now, Dirk just wants Dave to feel good. Feel good with him, convince Dave that yeah, this is totally the best idea they ever had, please don't take it back. 

Not that it's a huge hardship to follow Dave's directions; it's what he would have done anyways. 

Dirk releases his hair, smoothes over it to almost trick Dave into thinking he's soft again before he grips it in a different spot, and he slowly puts Dave in the right position for Dirk to lick at his lips, moaning and moving his hand away from Dave's chest so he can grip one of Dave's thighs, making him wrap it around his waist, get them even closer so he can pretty much lay down on top of him, grind into him harder. 

"Come Dave, wanna feel you-.." only a mumble into the kiss, "gonna make a mess on you, 'm so fuckin' close.."

Dave gives yet another full body shudder, hearing Dirk finally tell him what  _ he _ wants. Dave’s been bearing his soul a little too fucking much here, just trying to make Dirk comfortable, and it feels amazing to get a little taste of it back. And to say something like  _ ’make a mess on you…’ _

It all adds up to be too much, and maybe he’s been with Karkat for too long, because it’s the romance of it that finally pushes him over the edge. That pale bond of trust, the open need, Dirk  _ letting him in… _

He buries his moans in Dirk’s kisses as he cums, letting his brother swallow them up, and only offering more. Little whimpers of Dirk’s name. His body moves on its own, arching into Dirk’s chest, hand pumping the two of them erratically as his orgasm washes through him.

It’s a slow thing, like the ocean washing over him, gentle, and so fucking warm. The thigh in Dirk’s grip rides up, until his leg is wrapped all the way around him, pulling him in closer.

Some part of him wants to say something, to tell Dirk just how much he appreciates him and loves him loves this and how good he feels and so many things, but all he really wants to do is keep kissing him.

He leans up into Dirk, kissing him harder. His free arm wraps tight around him, holding him close. He’s overcome with it, with the needs to  _ just keep kissing him, _ and also to make Dirk cum. It fills him with renewed energy, that he could keep doing this all night, forever, and he uses the limbs he already has wrapped around Dirk to roll them over. 

He gets Dirk on his back and kisses Dirk so soft and so sweet that he can hardly breathe. He works his hand over both of them with vigor, even as his own cock starts to ache with his post-orgasm nerves. Between kisses, he mutters soft words. “I’ve been a mess since you first started to pet me… Now show me yours…”

Dirk gasps against him as he feels Dave stiffen up and jerk as he comes, feeling it against his  _ cock, _ feeling moans in his mouth, and it's  _ amazing.  _

For a hot second, he thinks he's coming too, but it's just Dave- somehow, he's just as satisfied as if he was the one blasting off. He kisses back ferociously, his own hips twitching into Dave's now frantic rubbing, the now wetter squishing making Dirk's cheeks stain an ever darker red, makes his eyes flutter shut, slurping wetly into their kiss. 

And then things seem to calm down a little, their rhythm slowing, and he moans almost-pleadingly, hand letting go of Dave's hair to hold Dave's neck steady, play with the short hairs in the back there as things cool down a little. That's fine, he guesses, he doesn't mind if they cool it down a little. 

But then Dave is heating up again, mashes their lips together demandingly, pulling him closer as if they aren't the most intimate they've ever been; what can he do but reciprocate? Still dazed with arousal, he plans on letting Dave test-drive this ride for a moment, let him taste what it's like to be the elder Strider, the patriarch you could say--

Oh shit, and now he's on his back. 

Dirk makes a protesting grunt in the back of his throat, nails scraping against Dave's neck in instinctive retaliation, but it all melts into lava-hot satisfaction when Dave continues to jerk the two of them off, wet and sticky and  _ filthy, _ and now Dave is kissing him so good, so soft and wet and  _ perfect, _ the moan that's drawn out of him obscene.

"Aah.." He slits his eyes open (when did they close?), mouth hanging open for Dave to plunge his tongue into, and when he does his eyes roll back, tongues swirling together in that tango they both seem to know too well already. 

Dirk grips at Dave, clings onto him, pants and  _ begs,  _ but begs with his body, with the needy arch of his back, with the firm bucks of his hips, with the breathy chant of Dave's name being braided into their kisses. 

In the end, he couldn't stand a chance. Only a couple of minutes later, and he's freezing up, abs contracting hard and white erupting between them, coating him from abs to his navel in cum. 

"Coming--" their lips are still mushed together, "Aah-- _ Dave..."  _ like his name is worthy of worship. As his hips continue bucking without his say-so, Dirk kisses Dave wetly, numb with pleasure but loving that heat, brows drawn up in bliss, expression uncharacteristically open. 

It feels so good he almost wishes something would hurt, just to balance it out. It feels almost  _ too _ good.

Dave winces as Dirk scratches him, but again, he’s grateful to be getting a taste of something that  _ Dirk _ wants. It’s not so bad, not nearly as bad as Karkat when he hasn’t filed his nails down, and soon it melts into something molten again, and Dave is more than happy to indulge it.

As Dirk cums, Dave doesn’t give him the opportunity to calm down. He kisses him just as hard, strokes him just as good, continues to thrust with him until Dirk is left gasping for breath beneath him. Never mind the mess, and never mind the fact that he got himself hard again by continuing to rub their cocks together like that. All he needs is right there beneath him.

He wipes his cum soiled hand on his own pants and brings it up to hold Dirk’s face. He never stops kissing him, as he lowers his body down to lay his entire weight on his brother, staying as close as he can, holding him, melting into him. His kisses give way from heated and desperate to slow and soft, and he continues on like that for a long time. 

He doesn’t say anything. Quiet envelops them, the sounds of their mouths moving together the only thing in the room. He only dares to stop once his lips are so raw he can’t stand it anymore, and the mess between them becomes a little too sticky to bear.

He rubs his thumb under Dirk’s eye in the most comforting way possible before finally breaking the silence. “I’m gonna grab us a wet rag, or something. Stay here. I love you.”

That last part slips out before he can stop it, and just when his heart rate had finally started to slow down, it picks right back up again. It makes his cheeks hot, and he pushes himself off of Dirk before it can become too big of a deal.

It’s not that he doesn’t mean it, it’s just… that was already a lot, that he never dared to  _ dream _ that Dirk would be okay with. He’s not trying to push his luck here.

He clears his throat, like that’ll fix it, and kicks his sweatpants the rest of the way off as he climbs out of the bed.

"AAhh-..." It's a moan of bliss and relief, and it's swallowed by Dave's hungry mouth, like all the other noises Dirk makes as Dave  _ keeps going. _

The older Strider's tongue falters in its action, numb with pleasure as he rides out Dave's now cum-caked hand's rough pulls. Another moan slithers into Dave's mouth as he feels Dave harden up against his softening cock again. 

That's so hot, what the fuck? 

It's already starting to feel like too much for him, but just as it's starting to become too much, switch over to pain, Dave starts slowing down. At first he hums in disappointment, giving Dave a little tug to the hair and pushing their lips together more demandingly. But it turns sweet. 

Fuck, if this is how Dave and Karkat do it all the time, he doesn't know how they're still alive. He feels so raw, but raw emotionally. He vaguely registers that his body starts feeling heavier and that there's a hand on his face, and he just sighs in a sort of relief, enjoying how he sinks into the mattress. 

He never forgets that it's Dave. Even when his mind is slow and molasses-thick, thoughts muffled by physical sensation, the hands on him are Dave, the soft hair against his open palm is Dave, the heavy warmth grounding him is  _ Dave.  _

It doesn't matter if he doesn't have anything smart to say. There's nothing left to say between them.  _ This is perfect,  _ he thinks idly to himself as their deep kisses turns into something more chaste, but not more intimate, his eyes barely enough open to see Dave's cheek, his nose. 

When Dave pulls away, he breathes out in quiet loss, but his lips are already doomed to be chapped, and Dave is saying something. His eyes are slow to focus on Dave’s, and he nods.

_ Love you.  _

....

Dave slips out of bed, and the quiet warmth left in him wars with a tightness in his chest and a stone in his stomach. 

It's not a brotherly love. Or maybe it is. Maybe that's easier for Dave to say to him and not to Karkat. 

The stone in his stomach gets heavier. 

"Hey, Dave-.." He sits up a little, still red-faced from their activities. 

A pause. About fifty things to say come to mind. This was amazing. I'm so glad we finally did this. You got some skills kid, congrats. Hot. I love you too. Come back to bed, I wanna cuddle more. Kiss me more. 

"No homo, right." 

God. Damnit. 

Dirk flops back to bed, facepalming himself.  _ No. _

"No, damnit, I. Sorry, I'm fucked out. Fucked up too, but whatever, okay..." 

... He sits up, crawls over the edge of the bed and stands on his knees, hands coming up to rest on Dave's shoulders. His dumb fucking mouth, he swears. 

To make up for it, his mouth presses to Dave's in apology, and Dirk smiles helplessly. 

"I love you too, lil bro. You better tell that to Karkat soon as well, okay? He's an impatient idiot."

To lessen the tension, he tugs playfully at Dave's hair again. 

That will be fun to take advantage of.

Dave’s heart sinks right into his stomach when Dirk says  _ ’no homo.’ _ He freezes and his mind starts spinning a mile a minute, thinking he just fucking prayed on Dirk, that he abused a vulnerability, that he took things too far--

He gives Dirk a tense look as he apologizes, but he doesn’t let out the breath he’s holding until Dirk sits up and kisses him. He lets the intention sink into him, trying to recognize that it’s  _ fine _ and Dirk is fine and they didn’t do anything wrong. This was good, nothing but good, and…

And Dirk loves him too.

That releases the rest of the tension in his shoulders and makes him soft again. He almost says fuck it and crawls right back into bed, clean up be damned. Especially with Dirk’s hand in his hair again, he almost doesn’t even notice what Dirk says about Karkat.

Karkat’s impatient? How does Dirk know that? Has… has Karkat been talking to Dirk about him…? Is Karkat upset with him for taking so long to say it?

Fuck. That’s not good. And he doesn’t want to think about it when he’s feeling this blissed out. Not that he wants to brush it off, either, but… Dirk is the one sitting in front of him. Dirk is the one that needs his attention right now. He has plenty of time to freak the fuck out about this later.

He forcibly un-shakes his mind and puts himself back in the moment. Love you. Kiss. Hair touching. Right.

He takes Dirk’s hand in his and pulls it from his hair to his lips, where he kisses the palm of it. He looks up between his lashes to make eye contact with Dirk as he does, as if to drill in exactly how fucking tender he’s being right now. Dave is the best at this. He’s so romantic, he’s going to smother Dirk in it. “Better keep your hands to yourself, bro. I’m already halfway to round two, and you look like you need a nap.”

He doesn’t give Dirk the chance to respond this time before he’s out the door. He cleans himself up in the bathroom, comes back to help clean Dirk up, and then they’re cuddled back up under the blankets. They don’t fall asleep without squeezing in a few more little kisses, or maybe a lot more, and Dave can’t help how fucking pale he feels when he finally watches Dirk drift off. He wishes he had his camera.


	13. Dirk/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> double update!! more dirkdave pale sessions

Dave and Karkat are piled up on the couch together, watching some movie that Dave couldn’t really give less of a fuck about. Karkat has his favorites, and he tends to like to rewatch what he calls _’the classics’_ and Dave can only watch them so many times before he stops pretending to be interested.

Karkat doesn’t mind though. He’s more than happy to just sit there with his arms wrapped around his boyfriend in silence. He doesn’t care that Dave is on his phone the entire time, it’s not like he’s going to _force_ Dave to watch a movie he doesn’t want to watch. Just being together is enough.

Dirk _hates_ meeting up with people to hand over their commissions. It's his least favourite part of the job. 

They ask fucking moronic questions, like, did he remember to oil the joints? Did he add that specific battery they needed? Does it vibrate? 

Yeah dude. He read the specifics about fifty times to get it just right. He improved all of the vague jargon they tried explaining to him but they didn't understand themselves. He _created_ what they couldn't. 

Don't fucking come to him, trying to gauge if he did or didn't do the job they asked him to. He's _miles upon miles_ better at what he does than they can even fucking imagine. 

Dirk is _irritated._

Which is why, when he sees Dave and Karkat on the couch, he feels it's the _perfect_ opportunity for him to let off some steam. 

Dave's on his phone, probably bored to all fuck. They're watching My Big Fat Greek Wedding again. Dead centre of the plot as well, or whatever passes for a plot anyways. 

Perfect. 

Casually, he walks over to the back of the couch, "Honeys, I'm home..." sing-songing it like he's a 20's patriarch, waiting for his sweet sugarplum to tell him it's lasagne for dinner.

It's definitely because he wants Dave’s attention that he ruffles his hair, making it a little bit too gentle for it to be _just_ playful. 

If he'd been in a playful mood, he'd add a _'Had a fun day, kiddos? Done y'all's homework?'_ Maybe elaborate on his little solo-roleplay, have Dave join in on the shenanigans, annoy Karkat some for disrupting his sacred chick-flick ogling. 

Instead, he digs his gloved fingers into Dave's hair, then gently lets the strands slide between them as he retracts his hand slowly, feeling at that silky softness. 

He keeps quiet. Then he looks to Dave when he turns. Raises one of his brows. Lowers his shades a little and squints his eyes. Glances to the bedroom and back. Pushes his shades back up. 

And goes. To the bedroom.

Karkat bristles at Dirk’s obnoxious entrance, which just so happens to be covering up one of his favorite parts of the movie. He watches Dirk ruffle Dave’s hair, and braces himself for the inevitable ruffle of his own, but… it doesn’t come.

Good. Fine by him. He’s not really in the mood to be riled up by Dirk right now, he’s having a perfectly relaxing time on the couch with Dave at the moment, thank you very much.

Dave on the other hand… is suddenly hyper aware of the fingers in his hair. He’s also 100% aware that it’s on purpose, and the look that Dirk gives him afterward is completely unnecessary.

See, they’ve been doing this for about two weeks now. And ever since that first time he told Dirk about his… affliction. He’s taken advantage of it at every opportunity. And it’s somehow managed to make it about a million times worse. Instead of a slow, pleasant burn of arousal like it used to be, it’s like an immediate fucking crash into boner city now. He swears he’s already half hard before he even looks up to meet Dirk’s eye.

And then Dirk is gone. And Dave has a choice to make. He might be in the middle of a cuddle jam with his boyfriend right now, but he didn’t miss the irritated buzz in Dirk’s voice. In his body language. He’s in some serious need of some shoosh-fapping, if Dave can claim to be an expert on the matter, and Karkat would understand that, right?

Definitely.

So he sets his phone down on the couch cushion and gently untangles himself from Karkat’s arms. “Hey,” he starts, and he already sounds excited, what the fuck, heart, stop beating so fast. “I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go check on him okay?”

“Fine,” is Karkat’s only gruff response. It’s obvious that he wants nothing to do with it right now, and that couldn’t be more perfect.

So Dave gets himself up at a totally normal speed and does not hurry to Dirk’s bedroom door. His blood is already hot and pumping under his skin when he closes the door behind himself.

“So, uh…” he starts, and he takes a few more steps into the room. He’s fucking jittery, dude. “How was work?” he asks. He stops beside his bro, without sitting, or touching, or diving right into the kiss that he’s craving. Because he knows what he wants, and that’s for Dirk to make the first move.

“You seem a little tense.”

When Dave comes in, he's already sitting on the edge of the bed, shades immediately meeting his gaze. He's kept the shades on, mostly because he wants Dave to feel that jitter, that healthy, uncertain flush when he can't _quite_ tell what Dirk is thinking. 

Dirk pats the spot next to him, secretly amused at how responsive Dave has gotten. He knew he'd been given the sacred grail of erogenous spots when Dave told him about the hair-pulling thing, but this is beyond any expectation. The more Dirk seems to play and explore the limits and sensitivity, Dave seems to get more honed in on it. A Pavlov's circle of pleasure. 

It's great fun to play with. 

So he pats the spot, and Dave, probably anxious to get started, breathing already elevated, sits down next to him, their faces turned to each other, their thighs flush to each other. 

Keeping silent, Dirk smoothes Dave's fringe back, careful to keep his face blank, keep Dave guessing. It's obvious that he's trying to rile Dave up, get him horny as all fuck, but other than that, he wants Dave to _hunger,_ wants him to _ache_ for whatever it is Dirk wants to give him. 

At first he just soothes at Dave's hair, as if calming him down; or he would be, if he knew it didn't turn Dave on more than Karkat turns on the coffee-machine in the morning. It's condescending, and Dirk's sure Dave can feel it, the way he pats at his hair, not doing anything more, not saying anything. 

Then, when he sees Dave is on the verge of asking him what the fuck he's doing, he sinks his fingers into the luscious locks and clenches his fist, tugging Dave's head back by the roots, making him bare his throat for him. 

Work is a distant memory. This is so much more fun. 

He can't wait to see what kind of reactions Dave's gonna give him today.

Dave sits when he’s told, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep quiet as Dirk pets his hair back. His thighs shift together with unease as Dirk just… _stares_ at him. Watching him. Teasing him.

There’s something in the air that Dave doesn’t quite like, and he’s not sure what it is, until Dirk is yanking his head back by the hair. It pulls a gasp from his mouth, sends a jolt of arousal through him, but it’s… It’s off. Dirk has long since moved past refusing to be a little rough with Dave, it’s not that, Dave _loves_ that, but it’s…

Dirk’s attitude has got to go.

How to fix it…

“Dirk…” he whines, with an intentional roll of his back. His body bows sensually, and he cracks an eye open to give Dirk a weary, pleading look. It’s only half a show; he really _is_ that affected by it, every second Dirk’s fist stays tangled in his hair sends another sharp wave of pleasure down his spine. But he also knows that Dirk likes it when he needs him, so…

“I missed you,” he says, letting that dependence bleed through every word. He reaches for Dirk, letting one hand settle around Dirk’s hip. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

Dirk really wanted to put Dave to the floor and have him suck Dirk off. Tug at his hair, choke him with his dick. Dirk knows what's up, and he knows Dave would totally enjoy that. Would have tears in his eyes, but pupils blown wide, lips stretched and red. 

It's hard, pun intended, to keep it up, pun x2 combo, when Dave is so god damned cute. 

Red eyes peeks open so they can give him _that look,_ all horny and whiny and _fuck_ Dave's _missed him..._ Almost reluctantly, his shoulders lower a little, he furrows his brow a smidge. Not what he was expecting. 

He should have, though. Dave's always been kinda needy, has always needed attention and encouragement and kindness. And Dirk's always wanted to give that to him, whether he was able to or not at the time. 

There's a longer silence, the hand on Dirk's hip warm and grounding. Ugh, if people were more like Dave, if they'd have a little more faith in him, wouldn't be so damned suspicious of him just cause he's a one-man business-

Oh. It seems like Dave wants a kiss. 

His annoyance tells him to make Dave ask for it. Ask if he's been a good boy today, if he deserves it. The hand on his hip says Dave always deserves a kiss. 

It's also _incredibly_ cute how Dave sort of just demands it. How they've gotten into the habit of it, how Dave _expects_ it from him. The grip on Dave's hair loosens a little, and he leans forwards and up a little so that their lips can touch, a tad more forceful than what he was actually aiming for. 

After letting their lips slip against each other for a bit he leans back, smoothing out the little mess he made of Dave's hair with his grip, rakes his fingers through it again in an subconscious apology. 

"Missed me, huh..? You're cute." It comes out entirely too sincere. "Does it have anything to do with the massive boner you're sporting..?" There, a little better. A little more bite.

He's _annoyed,_ he has to remember.

Dave makes the smallest, most satisfied noise as Dirk kisses him, like a reward for the way Dirk relaxes for him. It’s perfect, it’s exactly what he wanted. Dirk can be so easy, sometimes… at least for Dave. Maybe he’s privileged, in that way.

Dave shifts again when Dirk points out his very obvious, very hard boner, and maybe the flush that rises to his cheeks isn’t just for show. “Well, I mean, yeah… What did you expect to happen when you touched me like that? Sure as hell wasn’t the movie that did it for me.”

He moves to face Dirk a little more fully, bringing a knee up onto the bed. He brings his free hand to Drik’s thigh, palm flat, fingers dipping between, and slides it up to feel for Dirk’s own potential boner. “That’s all you, bro…” he adds, as he leans in to kiss Dirk again. He kisses Dirk in that same pleading way as before, like he _needs_ it and he won’t accept no for an answer. 

He palms Dirk’s crotch as he tries to figure out what he wants to do next. He kind of wants to push Dirk down and just keep kissing him until he’s breathless. He kind of wants to slide up behind him and massage his shoulders and kiss his neck until he melts. He kind of wants to suck him off, and give him the orgasm that will relax the tension in his entire body. All he wants to do is give, he’d give Dirk anything, as long as he knows what it is.

Maybe orgasm now, and drag him back out to the couch after for sleepy cuddles with their mutual boyfriend. That would be… nice. The three of them together.

“I’m more interested in yours, though,” he says, when he finally breaks from the kiss. His fingers work to undo Dirk’s pants and he doesn’t even look down. He’s looking straight through Dirk’s shades and into his eyes. “Thinking about how you taste… Can I?”

A flicker of warmth travels down Dirk's throat as he swallows the little noise Dave makes for him, and he has to smile back a little against Dave's mouth. Hell yeah. Sometimes, Dave is just too easy. Go a little soft, and Dave's all peachy perfect with the world, sated and warm against him. 

He continues gently sliding his fingers through Dave's locks, petting and playing with his hair, gently moving locks so the parting of Dave's hair is all wrong before gently moving it back, skritching against the base of his neck all sweet, like he's the _best_ dog and he deserves a treat. 

Seeing Dave's complexion darken when he briefly slits his eyes open is a treat for _him._ "Yeah, well..." He brings their lips together again, a little firmer this time, but not harsh like before.

He doesn't really notice when Dave moves to face him, enjoying how his mind goes blank for a little bit as he gives Dave all brain-power, but his body pays _close_ attention, upper body twisting to mimic Dave's turn, head tilting to the side so they can kiss a tad deeper. 

A jolt, then a small groan as Dave feels him up, cups him. Maybe he also gains some colour, glancing down and seeing that yeah, he's hard as a diamond too. "... Astute observation." It's all he manages to utter before lips are on his again, now with more of that delicious _want,_ that _need._

It spurs him on, makes him turn towards Dave (oh, he already has?), snake his other arm around his waist so their tongues can greet properly, really indulge in how deep and heavy their tongues dance together, coaxing out a moan from Dirk that makes his shoulders relax further.

When their kiss breaks, Dirk is surprised at how dark it is until he remembers his shades are still on, and he licks his upper lip so he won't bite the lower one. Dave locks gaze with him, and his heartbeat increases. 

"Yeah..." It comes out breathy, and he clears his throat, a heavier hand dragging fingers through Dave's hair again before smoothing it around to support Dave's chin a little, planting a last kiss on him. 

"Fuck, Dave, " his breathing is a little fast too, and he's possibly a tiny bit embarrassed by how affected he is, "have I Pavlov'd you into being horny for the taste of my dick..? I'm impressed by myself, this should be, like- documented or something-.." 

He can't seem to steer his gaze away from Daves', but he doesn't need to look down to return the favour, slip his hand into Dave's comfy sweatpants and right into his underwear to circle his fist around his cock. It's already slick with precome, and sighs into their kiss, most of the tension in him now in his lower abdomen. 

Thoughts a pleasant, slow drip, he hums. "Wanna 69?"

The offer is tempting… Dirk has shown him time and time again just how enthusiastically he can go down on Dave. And he has a hard time saying no to Dirk as it is… but what he wants right now is for Dirk to feel so good that he can’t think straight any more. Forget the bad day he had. Melt into Dave and let him soothe his nerves. 

And Dirk can’t do that if he’s focused on making Dave feel good, too. It’s hard to focus on that when Dirk is stroking him like this, knowing exactly how to touch him, but… He’s here for a reason.

Maybe next time they can do it, when Dirk isn’t wound so tight.

He knows that Dirk will fight him if he says no, so instead of saying anything, he just kisses Dirk again. He licks into his mouth and leans into him, slowly pushing him down into the bed. He keeps his hand moving on the dick in his hand, even as Dirk’s hand is forced away from him by the new position.

With a newly clear head, he kisses Dirk’s cheek and pulls away enough to get Dirk naked from the waist down. “Pavlov’d or not, I fucking love it, and I’m not going to let you distract me from it.”

He gives Dirk a grin, a genuinely _hungry_ smile as he gets his hands under Dirk’s thighs and pushes him up further on the bed to make room for himself. He gets down onto his elbows, and instead of dropping Dirk, he lifts the thighs in his hands up over his shoulders and settles comfortably into dick-sucking position.

His hands come to rest gently on Dirk’s hips as he dives right in and sucks Dirk down to the back of his tongue in one go.

"Nnh..." the moan is all kinds of grateful as Dave lies him down, their kiss heavy and molten hot, making him melt at the edges. Hips rolls out against Dave's hand, his own hand still in Dave's hair, the other slipping out from Dave's trousers as Dave moves him just so. 

He's waiting for Dave to tug his own pants down after his own has been discarded, turn over him so he can reach that beautiful ass, but he only gives Dirk a smile that makes the hairs in the back of his neck stand up and something hot in his stomach clench. 

An absent "Pav-lovin' it." slips out of his mouth in a monotone drone, eyes wide behind his shades as Dave pushes him up. Dirk can appreciating the casual show of strength, even if he was a bit too close to yelping.

He figured that yeah, he managed to escape that little humiliation, but then he actually _does_ yelp when Dave practically _inhales_ his dick, and Dirk's thighs squishes around Dave's head, a hand immediately coming down to cup the back of that blonde head, his breath coming out shaky. 

"Fu- _uck,_ Dave, you're-... So fucking good at that, ahh-.." He thumbs over the corner of Dave's mouth, mesmerised by the way Dave so perfectly takes him, sagging against the covers when Dave puts the vacuum in his mouth to good use. 

"Uhhghh, shit-..." Thought is replaced with hot white static, and Dirk can only look down to Dave with crooked shades as he goes to town on him. His free hand clenches at the sheets. "Guess I'm not distractin' ya, damn.." Not that he minds- at all. "Bone apple teeth.." He's not sure what's up with the one-man stand-up-routine he's got going, but he feels a little lame. But it's ironic, so it's hella cool. 

Flawless reasoning.

Dave would laugh, if he weren’t too busy with his mouth full. He does let out a fond little breath through his nose, though, followed by a sweet little moan, because _who’s the cute one again?_ Who does Dirk think he is, rambling away like that?

Dirk says he’s good at this, but what choice does he have but to be the best, when their mutual boyfriend’s dick is so _long_ and _wiggly_ and _aggressive?_ Dirk’s is a walk in the park by comparison and Dave swallows it down with ease. He works his throat around his brother’s cock, up and down, hollowing his cheeks with every upward stroke.

He stops, at the tip, to roll his tongue over it and kiss and suckle. He swipes the tip of his tongue across the slit, again and again, because in these last two weeks with Dirk, he’s come to realize that Dirk is… _extra_ sensitive there.

He rubs his lips down the spit-slick side of it, loving on every inch until he settles into Dirk’s balls. He hums and moans into it, just to let Dirk know exactly how much he loves to lick and suck at them. But the craving to have that cock stuffed back down his throat is addicting, and soon he’s right back up to where he started, with his lips stretched around the base and his nose buried in Dirk’s little curls.

Every tug in his hair gets him harder and harder in his own jeans, and the noises he’s making aren’t just for Dirk’s sake. He’s _loving_ this, and the way Dirk’s thighs squeeze his head tell him that Dirk is too. When he opens his eyes, he can see the muscles in Dirk’s stomach squeezing and twitching, and if he’s going to stop, now would be the time.

He pulls off with a dramatic whine and a huff, looking entirely puff off to not have his throat full anymore. He licks his lips, like he just had the best meal of his life, and connects eyes with Dirk. His voice is only a little bit raw. “You want me to finish you off, or do you want to fuck me…?”

He’s so thoroughly in his zone, he has a hard time resisting sinking right back down again. But he wants to give Dirk the choice, so to satisfy himself, he dips to kiss at Dirk’s hip. He keeps looking up though, waiting, patient.

"Mhaa-... shit.." Dave's working him like a pro, and if he had the brain-capacity, he'd probably know why. Everything he knows now, is that Dave's tight little mouth is hot, wet, and _heavenly._

It's like Dave's read the manual of how to suck souls out of dicks. Dave licks right where it edges on too-sensitive-hot-white-pleasure, and Dirk gives out a low whine from the back of his throat. "Damn, you're --.." Ugh, he can't keep up the monologue, he just needs to watch Dave right now cause _damn._

Dirk is being bathed in affection, and his previous annoyance and grievances about people in general is but a distant memory. He even forgets what his purpose in bringing Dave in here was, he just thinks thank _fuck_ he did, nothing could be better than this. 

But then he remembers that hey, he wants to pleasure Dave too..? Insert question mark, cause he can't even think in proper sentences with Dave swallowing around him like his dick is actually the most tasty sausage he's ever wrapped his lips around. He strokes at Dave's hair, encouraging and moving with the bobs of his head, playing with it absently. The flush on his cheeks and chest is almost embarrassing.

Then the heat of it is gone, thick saliva cooling his dick in a way that makes him flinch and moan, or maybe it's the goopy string of saliva that snaps off between his dick and Dave's mouth that's just that _hot._

"-- Ahh..." A helpless little moan, bereft. Right, Dave- Dave probably wants..? Man, it could be either one, and he searches Dave's gaze for a long moment before flopping his head back and sighing out shakily, thumb rubbing behind Dave's ear. 

"I want to come..." It's probably bad that he's not prioritizing Dave's pleasure. He might feel bad about it afterwards. But he can just suck Dave off as well, no foul. 

"You feel so good around me Dave, I'm fucking melting.." His voice is scratchy, and he's not the one rubbing his throat raw with dick. "Want to come down your throat..." He swipes his thumb over that wet, puffy mouth of his, his dick twitching hard at how the soft skin there squishes. 

"...please.." He didn't know how much he needed Dave to give him this. He wants to come so bad, and then he wants to pass the fuck out, cuddle Dave until he falls asleep. 

Not what he had in mind, but fuck if it's not tempting.

Dave gives Dirk a wicked smile and a short laugh. He can’t say he’s not disappointed that Dirk didn’t pick fucking him, but that dreamy, fucked out look he’s being given is more than worth it. He loves seeing Dirk like that, loves _making_ Dirk like that. All melty and brainless and relaxed...

And to be fucking honest, he loves having dick in his throat too, so there’s no harm no foul. 

“You got it, bro,” he says, with a sweet little kiss to Dirk’s tip. The way Dirk is petting him like he’s the best little cock sucker in the world feels pretty goddamn fantastic, and he lets those hands guide him back down over his brother’s cock. He bobs a few times, shallow at first, and then _deep._ He sucks him all the way down, and back up, and down until he stops.

He stops with Dirk’s cock stuffed all the way down his throat, and swallows around it. It’s so incredibly indulgent, just letting himself stay here, with his throat stretched a cock. He knows it feels good for Dirk, too, but it’s probably not anything that’s going to make him cum. Which he just _begged_ Dave to let him do.

He swallows around it a few more times, letting his throat flex and constrict around it. He’s drooling pretty badly at this point, and it’s slopping from between where his lips are stretched around skin, and dripping down. It’s perfect, actually, leaves Dirk nice and wet for him to really get to work again.

So he does. He picks his head back up and grips his fingers into Dirk’s thighs as he gives Dirk everything he knows he loves.

"Ah--!" Dirk puts his hand over his mouth briefly, surprised at the volume of it. He imagines Karkat's ear perking and swiveling towards the door, and suddenly his little vision comes back to him: 

This was- _not_ what he was planning. The pleasure is- _mindnumbing,_ and maybe he's gotten a little addicted to the feeling of Dave's lustrous locks gliding over his fingers so gently, but this is a little ridiculous. He's acting like some _twink,_ which he decidedly is not. 

He clamps down on the sounds with not too much trouble, huffing out a lower moan-closer-to-grunt, grabbing onto the roots of Dave's hair, biting his lip. "Makin' it hard to- ..ngh- keep quiet, dude.. You imaginin' Karkat listening to us, huh..? Bet he can hear that -.. Filthy sucking no problem..." 

Never mind it's getting _him_ hella hot too. A little nervewrecking, sure, but Karkat straining to hear him and Dave fucking? Legit hot. Hell yeah. 

"Haa-... Bet he's -- Mh!" It seems Dave is ready for homerun. Really acing those notes, touchdowns all over the place. "Strainin' his goddamn ears-- What’s big fat greek wedding? No idea, it's probably about yoghurt or so-omething _fuck_ Dave that's so good-"

He bites his lips, sighing out shakily, doesn't quite want to take over the way Dave is fucking Dirk's cock into him. 

_"NNnhh,_ I'm gonna eat you out after this-...Ah-. No- fuck it- fuck it, Dave, pants off I need your ass _now,_ come on--" He tugs Dave's hair back, gently forcing Dave's head off. It's probably not cool, him being all wish-wishy with what he wants, but this can't be _stopped._

"Wanna eat you out while I come-.." It comes out needy but he doesn't _care._

Dave pouts, with his whole fat, swollen bottom lip sticking out and everything. He was on a roll there, he was positive that he was about to get a nice big gulp of Dirk’s cum before he was pulled away.

Just as well, he guesses. Dirk will last longer if he keeps getting interrupted. And now that he’s stopped again, he’s got a few options in front of him. 

He could cave and let Dirk rim him while he finishes sucking him off… but there was a reason he didn’t want to do that in the first place. He’s not the only one who's good with his mouth; Dirk gives pretty fucking good head too. And he doesn’t want to be distracted while he’s trying his very best to smooth over Dirk’s frazzled nerves…

He could ignore the plea and just sink back down. Suck Dirk so good he can’t think straight anymore. Which, he’s pretty sure he was doing already, so the fact that Dirk pulled him off means there’s something missing.

The answer is obvious. He wanted Dirk to fuck him anyway, and he thinks that maybe Dirk just wants to feel like he’s participating more. 

“Okay, Dirk…” he says, in that soft soothing way he has. Dirk’s thighs are tense and trembling just a little as Dave lifts them off his shoulders and moves to sit up. He gets all the way off the bed to shed his pants and grab Dirk’s lube. His cock _aches_ from sitting so long untouched with as hard as he is. He can’t help stroking himself a few times as he crawls back over his brother’s splayed body.

He kisses Dirk tenderly, his over-sensitive lips feeling extra raw against Dirk’s. He’s got his knees on either side of Drik’s hips, spread and ready. He slips the bottle of lube into Dirk’s hand and murmurs to him, “Why don’t you stretch me open instead, so I can sit on that yummy cock of yours?”

Dirk will never admit to his mouth hanging open as Dave hands him the lube. It's fucking unsightly, he wouldn't be caught like that for anything. His cock twitches heavily again, and he pushes his head up a little from the covers so he can press their lips together again, nodding against Dave's lips. 

His thumb pops open the lid of the lube, moving it behind Dave to squeeze a generous amount over his crack, his other hand catching the dripping lube at his taint, his wrist brushing against Dave's balls. "Y-yeah.." Shit, he stuttered.

No mind. Dave wants him to do something? Thank fuck, yes, finally, god, give him _something_ to take his mind off of how hard his dick is, how close he is to pleading. Wait, he already said please, didn't he. Fuck. When did _that_ happen, usually he has to fight tooth and nail to get those words out. 

Anyway. He slips two sopping wet fingers between Dave's cheeks, just rubbing up and down, coating him well. "Yeah, 'll get you ready for my yummy cock...." It comes out _almost_ whiny, but he manages to make it more breathy, deeper. "Getting your cream donut ready for my hot pipin' churro. Really get the sausage breaded." Jesus Christ. 

He slips a finger in without more ado, moaning at the heat enveloping his finger. Just thinking about how his dick will feel inside makes him dizzy with arousal. "Can't wait to fuck you.." Finally, some god damn normal dirty talk. "Want to fuck you until you can taste me again." He slips in another finger, knowing Dave can take it.

He scissors him firmly, maybe a bit rougher than he might be usually; he's on the brink of fucking orgasm, this isn't _nice_ of Dave by any means. It makes something in his stomach squirm, not really in a bad way. "So ready to be fucked too, aren't you..? So hard.." He uses the back of his lube-slicked hand to brush over Dave's dick, then thinks fuck it, grabbing onto it with a wet squelch and starts pumping, slowly to the rhythm of the fingers in him. 

"You're so good...."

Dave kisses into Dirk’s neck, smiling against his skin as Dirk continues to say literally everything that pops into his head. He’s not sure how many times he can think about how cute Dirk is before some kind of cosmic force stops him. Dirk would never admit to being cute, and he’d never take the compliment either, but really, Dave just fucking loves him. He’s adorable.

He moans for Dirk as Dirk slips a finger into him, and then he moans _for real_ when Dirk actually fucking nails the dirty talk. Fuck him until he can taste it, hm? That’s so fucking hot, it’s not even funny. _He wants that,_ jesus christ, he wants that so badly.

“Mmn…” He tucks his forehead into Dirk’s shoulder when he can’t keep up the kissing anymore. The stretch is rough, but it’s not unpleasant, especially with the way that Dirk strokes him along to it. “Feels good…” he breathes. He lets his knees slide across the sheets, spreading himself open further over Dirk. It feels dirty, like Dirk can reach that much deeper in him now, and he can’t resist kissing him again.

He kisses Dirk slow and nasty, licking into his mouth, biting playfully at his lip. “Damn right, I’m hard… What can I say, swallowing your cock down really gets me off… Almost as much as when you pull my hair.” He has to stop to whine as Dirk hits a particularly good stroke, his whole body shuddering and clenching down on fingers.

A flash of a memory plays in his mind. Of him on his knees, Dirk fucking him from behind. Grabbing him by fistfulls of hair and tugging him off the bed. Hanging, suspended at Dirk’s mercy as he’s fucked into brainless mush. It’s not exactly where this is headed, but fuck, if it doesn’t jump start his libido.

“...Fuck, bro,” he says, voice shaking just a little. He’s hot all over. As much as this is for Dirk, he needs it, too. “You better hurry up. If you don’t fuck me soon I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”

Dirk laughs a little when Dave compares sucking him off to when he's pulling his hair. "You must like me pulling your hair rather a lot then, wouldn't you, Davey..?" His voice dips a little lower, and he nuzzles his face in Dave's hair, pressing small kisses to his scalp. He doesn't know if that feels quite as good as someone pulling at his hair, but chewing on his hair like an alpaca is not on the table, hot for Dave or not. 

Dave's hot face in the crook of his neck sends a small shiver down his back, and he licks his starting-to-become-red lips.

"Aww, baby... This all feels _so_ good for you, doesn't it...?" His voice is teasing, the smirk audible when Dave spreads for him like the most luxurious whore, juts his ass out pleadingly. 

"Such a good boy..." Is all he can murmur before Dave's tongue is licking the words out of his mouth, makes the next words dissipate into nothing. He repeats the deep thrust of his fingers, swirls them inside Dave _just so,_ until he can feel that firmer little bump. He can sense Dave flying, whining so prettily when he pushes that button, massages it like it's a knot to undo in him. 

His own breath is coming out harsh as well, seeing how he's slowly disassembling his lil bro. So sweet and easy for him. "Then lose your mind, baby, I don't mind coming after you for once.." 

The petnames keeps piling up, he doesn't know which one to pick. Dave is all of those things, a good boy and his baby and his lil bro Davey; so soft and sweet, so good for him…

"I know you're ready for my big _yummy_ cock, Davey, but your cute lil' hole needs some more lovin' before it'll take me just right.." The hand of Dave's dick slows down into something torturous, so slow it can barely be called pumping, but grip firm enough that Dave can fuck into it should he wish to. 

The ball is on his side, and the thrill of having Dave coming undone for him is making him _ache,_ makes him long to shove his dick as deep into him as he can, make Dave bounce on him like the good little boy he is...

"Ughh, you're so tight..." He slips in a third finger after slicking it up with lube from his taint, and he gently slides it in besides the two other in one long movement, moaning at how the holes _gives,_ how Dave clenches up briefly. 

Dirk kisses messily at the corner of Dave's lips, licking at the seam almost pleadingly, sighing just as shakily as Dave's voice is. "Ask me pretty please, Davey... Maybe I'll let you go for a ride, hmm..?" He's pretty sure he's gonna nut untouched if this goes on for too long, but Dave doesn't need to know that.

_”Please,”_ Dave begs, without even a hint of restraint. “Please fuck me, I want it so fucking bad. Wanna taste you, just like you promised…”

He rocks his hips back and forward, trying to take Dirk’s fingers deeper and fuck into his fist at the same time. He whimpers in a way that’s almost forcefully sexy, like Dirk’s cock in his ass is the only thing he’s ever wanted, and he’ll never be complete without it. “Please let me ride you…” he begs again, as he kisses Dirk over and over again. He’s more than ready for it at this point, he doesn’t care if he’s not quite all the way stretched. He’s taken worse for less.

And, if he knows Dirk (which he absolutely does,) he knows that Dirk is about ready to combust with how badly he wants to cum. No amount of dirty talk or deflection can hide that fact from Dave. And he’s going to give Dirk the ride of his fucking life.

He knows Dirk’s games well enough by now, too, to know that Dirk is going to try to keep stalling. Try to make sure Dave is so worked up that he’s a sobbing mess before Dirk ends up spent himself. And Dave hasn’t missed the way that Dirk latched onto the word _yummy_ like it’s a trigger. Dirk is done for, he’s been a goner since the second Dave asked to kiss him.

So, to bring Dirk back down with him, he sits up enough to reach back and take Dirk’s cock in hand. He gives it a few good strokes, before guiding himself back to press it against his rim alongside Dirk’s fingers. He rocks his hips back again, and lets out a long groan as it presses into his rim. “D irr k…” he pleads, like he even really needs to keep begging. 

He’s playing up his need again, the way he knows Dirk loves, and he glances down through his lashes to give Dirk a smoldering look. He bites his lip and makes another little noise.

With his head full of cotton, Dave on his lips and his cock lined up to Dave's entrance, Dirk can only nod, messily twisting their tongues together, loving the way his lips start feeling a little rough.

Dave asking him so nicely, the way it's so _obvious_ Dave wants this, the way Dave is lining him up like he's so desperate to have Dirk in him he'll do it himself, the way lava red scorches as it meets his own orange ember, it snaps his god damned patience in half like a dry twig. 

Fingers slips out of Dave in a hurry, scrabbling to hold onto Dave's hips, the grip slick with lube. "Well, since you're such a good boy, Davey.." And then he slams his hips up, moaning hard as heat sucks him in, wet muscle clenching around him, twitching. 

_"Fuck..._ Dave, fuck-" He really can't control himself, and it should probably worry him, but it doesn't. He digs his heels into the bed so he can thrust his hips upwards, thumbs digging into the hollow of Dave's hips, almost massaging it because of the slick grip, and he squeezes his eyes shut and concentrates so he won't cum inside Dave like a premature teen. 

"So fucking tight, Dave... Fuck, you're like a dream around my dick-- more like a nightmare, only I'm the mare and you're the night- hah, the _knight,_ get it-.." 

His voice jumps every time he pumps his hips up, and if it makes his muscles protest a little he doesn't give a _shit;_ it feels like he's about to melt, he at least sweats like he's about to. "Taste me yet, baby..? 'm sure if I come deep enough inside you you'll feel it--" Hands slides up to thumb at Dave's nipples, and he slits his eyes open so he can look at Dave again, searching for that pleasured gaze, making sure Dave likes it, tries rolling his hips that special way that'll get his dick bumping against Dave's special spot. 

"Love you Dave, fuck-... This what you wanted, hmm, my dick inside you? Just couldn't help yourself, could you lil man..." he flicks his thumbs over his nipples, smirking.

Dave gasps as Dirk trusts into him all at once. It’s a lot, it’s _perfect._ He lets himself fall right into the rhythm, lets Dirk set the pace as he pleases. He certainly can’t complain, as Dirk takes both his hips in his hands and drive up into him like it’s the only thing keeping him sane.

He vaguely picks up on Dirk’s ponies reference-- he wants to hate that he _knows_ this shit now, but he can’t. Not when it’s for Dirk. Not when they have _so much fun_ watching the show together.

 _‘Watching.’_ Like Dave doesn’t spend the entire time with his arms wrapped around Dirk and his face buried in his neck for endless kisses. He _listens,_ though. He listens to the episodes, kinda, and to Dirk’s enthusiastic commentating. He knows the show more intimately at this point than he ever had any intentions to. 

But he can’t say it’s not worth it. Especially when it’s given him so much sure-fire ammo to hit Dirk directly in the heart with.

So, when Dirk tells him he loves him, Dave can’t stop the warm hum he makes. “‘Course this is what I want, sugarcube… Spent so long resisting you, there’s no way I could hide it now. Love it when you fuck me… Love _you…”_

He moans lightly, airy, with Dirk’s thumbs rubbing his nipples. The cock inside him is quickly driving him toward the edge, and he rocks his hips back to meet every thrust. He shutters with each brush of his fuck button and dips to kiss under Dirk’s ear. A lick. A nibble. A hot whisper. “Love you so fucking much… Wanna feel you cum in me…”

_Sugarcube._ Dirk sighs out a helpless moan, bucking into Dave harder, loving how Dave can figure out his rhythm in less than a heartbeat, how seamlessly they move together. 

Dave's little nickname for him has him _melting,_ makes him desperate for another kiss even though his lips are getting proper raw. "Love you-.." Dirk leans his head to the side to give Dave more space to nibble, choking on a pleading whine, gritting out a moan instead-shit.... 

"Yeah-? Fuck-... .. _yeah,_ I'm gonna-" his hips are rocking into Dave as fast and hard as he can, desperate to get Dave where he needs to be, grunting with the effort, thumbs rubbing in firm circles around Dave's nipples. "Come so fucking hard in you Dave, you'll have me in you for _days-_ sh-shit, I- _Dave."_

His hips snap up a final time, hands digging into Dave and pulling him down the best he can to meet his thrust, his body twitching under Dave's as he comes, forcing Dave to sit on him as Dirk rides out the shocks. With the edging done, coming feels so good it almost brings tears to his eyes, and he sighs breathlessly, a hand coming down to pump at Dave's neglected erection hard and fast, gaze meeting Dave's, glassy and fucked out and _hungry,_ like nothing is better than the thought of Dave coming with Dirk's jizz and dick still deep inside him. 

"Perfect... you're _perfect,_ Davey, I love you... Come, lemme see how much you love that pretty dick in your ass, let me see you come all over...." 

Dirk hoists himself up somewhat bonelessly, just so he can press their lips together and fit his hand into Dave's hair, giving it a good tug before mashing their faces together more forcefully. 

_"Come,_ Dave...." a shiver wracks through him as oversensitivity starts making itself known, but it feels good. Feels even better, knowing that Dave's the reason.

Pleasure ripples through Dave when Dirk says he loves him, and it rides through him in waves as Dirk continues to fuck into him. He bites down on Dirk’s shoulder as Dirk slams into him, and he can feel himself being filled with hot and sticky. It makes him moan long and low, shuddering as Dirk’s orgasm literally pours into him.

He feeds off Dirk’s climax, riding it, grinding down on the cock that’s stuffed all the way inside him. Dirk says he loves him again and he can’t help wrapping Dirk up in his arms. He shoves his arms between Dirk’s body and the bed and hugs him hard, clinging to him as Dirk strokes him.

“I love you too, I--” he chokes on his words, breaking off into a strained moan as his body jerks once with the threat of orgasm. _So close so fucking close--_

“Dirk,” he whines, grinding down again and again without actually thrusting. Dirk’s cock rubs him _just fucking right_ and the hand on his own dick is perfect. “L-love you- _fuck,”_ he breathes, and then Dirk is _pulling his fucking hair_ and then he’s cumming too. His body tenses and he makes the sweetest noises. He feels like he’s collapsing, but there’s no way he could, not when he’s wrapped so tightly around his brother.

As the initial shocks wind down, and he starts to grind again, slow and sweet. The drag of Dirk inside him is raw and it aches and it feels _so good._ He kisses Dirk hard, but he doesn’t take it any deeper. He kisses him again, and again, and again, feeling the energy drain from each of them until the roaring in his ears dies down and all he can hear is their breathing and kissing and the slight rustle of blankets moving as he grinds.

Eventually, he hums, and presses a kiss to Dirk’s cheek before sitting up a little. “Was good, _sugarcube…_ How you feelin’? Better?” He knows the answer is tired, he can see it in the way Dirk’s eyes droop, but he can see something relaxed and peaceful there to, and _that’s_ why he does this. He loves to see Dirk with his walls down. Loves to make him happy. He just… loves Dirk.

Dirk's vision has all kinds of sparks as Dave _bites_ him, sends him flopping down into the mattress again, and the moan that slips out is high-pitched and sweet. It feels like a _drug,_ the way Dave wraps himself around Dirk desperately: does he need to feel even closer to Dirk, even now..? He just can't get enough of it, can he...

Dirk can't either. 

"Yeah, Davey..." He murmurs it encouragingly, wincing at the delicious rawness of Dave continuing to grind over him- but then he feels warmth splash onto his abs, and fuck. If he could get hard again, this would be how. Dave is all _his_ like this, wrapped up around him like he's afraid to fall, _still_ rutting their hips together like he can't get enough. 

Kisses hits him like comets, hard in a way that would clack their teeth together if they didn't know kissing better, and he loves it. He's smothered in kisses, and at first he can keep up, his own desperate energy enough, but as they both slow down he can feel himself losing to Dave's speed, and he sighs luxuriously, letting Dave steer the tempo. He deserves it. 

Again, the nickname squeezes his chest, makes him smile dopily, too high on them to school his expression at all, his non-sticky hand smoothing at Dave's back. "Hmm..?" He's feeling _amazing,_ what would he feel better _from..?_ He's about to ask when a couple of brain cells manages to rub together. 

"oh... Mmmh, fuckin'..." he shrugs his shoulders a little, bringing his dirtied hand up to lick at the mess, sighing as if it's a relief for the taste to hit his tongue. "People askin' me dumb questions. Yeah, I made sure to incorporate the ai, you kiddin' me..?" He doesn't sound like he's annoyed at all; he sounds sleepy and wryly amused. "Get on my level biiitch..." He laughs a little, sucking between his fingers to get everything.

Dave’s eyes go half lidded again, watching Dirk suck the cum from his fingers. For a second, his mind skips, and he thinks that maybe cleanup won’t be so bad, if Dirk just licks it all up. That would be hot, wouldn’t it...

But then, he remembers the cum still stuffed up inside him, being _held_ and kept there by the cock still in his ass. It won’t stay there after Dirk pulls out--

 _But Dirk could lick that up too, couldn’t he._

The thought is enough to make him shudder, letting Dirk eat him out to his heart’s content. Until every drop of cum is in his stomach. And he _knows_ that Dirk would love it, the sick fuck, they both would. But Dave kind of left Karkat hanging out there on the couch, and it’s getting to be about time they got their asses out there.

He barely catches what Dirk says, past the hprny swirl of thoughts in his head, but he manages to come up with some kind of response. “You’re the best, and anyone who doesn’t realize that is a fucking moron,” he says.

He pushes himself up on his hands to survey the damage. They’ve both still got their shirts on, but Dirk’s is shoved all the way up to his armpits and Dave’s isn’t in much better condition. Dirk never even took his fucking gloves off, but his shades lay beside him on the bed where they must have gotten knocked off somewhere along the line. There’s cum smeared on each of their stomachs, and maybe it _can be_ an easy cleanup.

He ducks to lick the cum off of Dirk with a satisfied hum, lapping away at it until he’s positive the skin is clean. When he sits up, he swipes his fingers through the mess on his own skin and holds them out to Dirk’s lips to be sucked.

“You wanna change your clothes?” he asks, as he watches Dirk work his fingers in the laziest, sexiest possible way. It stirs in his gut, and he swallows it down so he won’t get too worked up again. “I gotta get back out to Karkat, and I’m bringing you with me.”

Dirk enjoys the way Dave's eyes darken as he watches him lick up all traces of come from his hand, a post-excited twitch from his cock agreeing with the sentiment. It looks like Dave wants to eat _him_ up for a hot second, which is all kindsa cute. 

He laughs again when Dave says he's the best. "Yeah, I know, 's why I was annoyed." The compliment still leaves a warm little spot in his heart. 

"Mm - " Hot. Dave is licking at him, tongue swirling and lips puckering to get all the jizz off him. Goosebumps spread briefly over his abdomen, and he sighs and bites his lips briefly. Yeah, they're both freaks. Dirk is so glad. 

His mouth opens readily as Dave holds his filthy fingers out, a soft moan breathing out his nose as the taste hits his tastebuds again. He wants to lick the inside of Dave's mouth clean as well. He wants everything in him, steal his, their, essence, keep it all safe inside him, let his body digest it and make it _him._

Still, he's tired. His tongue rolls lazily over the fingers, and he suckles on them like there's honey there, stubborn to leave his digits. He locks eyes with Dave as he leans back, his lips popping off the last digit, leaving it clean and shining a little with saliva. 

"... hmm.." Not sure if he wants to change clothes. "New pants." The jeans will get uncomfy. "One more kiss, Davey... wanna taste you.." As if he hasn't tasted enough. Well, he hasn't. He wants it _all._

“Only one more?” Dave asks, and he’s smiling so wide when he leans back in. He grins all the way through their kiss, letting Dirk get every bit of the taste he asked for. When he finally breaks, he only dives back in for another, and ends up laughing into it. It’s a light, warm, fond sound, like he’s just so fucking happy to be here. And he is.

“We _have_ to get up, bro,” he says, and to punctuate that he’s actually for sure definitely getting up, he lifts his hips to let Dirk’s cock slide out of him. It’s a gross feeling, and he aches with emptiness immediately, but it’s not like they can stay like that forever. “We can kiss some more on the couch if you want…”

He says _’if you want’_ but what he really means is _’if you manage to stay awake,’_ which, he’s pretty confident that Dirk won’t be able to do. For the umteenth time in the last hour, he thinks about how fucking cute Dirk is. Fucking himself to sleep, what could be cuter than that?

Well, okay, maybe he’s tied with Karkat. Karkat can be pretty goddamn cute, too.

He gives Dirk’s cheek one more kiss before pushing himself up and off the bed. He stretches himself out, body tense from the position he held the whole time they were in bed. (Worth it.) He puts his underwear back on (who needs a new pair when they’re about to get cum leaked into them) and grabs two pairs of Dirk’s sweatpants. 

He hands one to Dirk, then puts the other on himself. It makes him feel… warm, from the inside out, to be in Dirk’s clothes. Nostalgic and sweet and loved all at the same time. He almost goes for one of Dirk’s t-shirts too, but he refrains. They both need to shower, and there’s no sense in getting fresh clothes dirty.

“You ready?” he asks, offering Dirk a hand. 

The laugh Dirk gives back is a little sheepish, but it melts into silent bliss as he licks into Dave's mouth, swirling their tired tongues together until he stops tasting anything at all; only laughing more happily when Dave dives in for another kiss after parting a first time. 

"mmmh..." Eyes half-lidded, shoulders lax, he gives a non-committal shrug. Just wants to sleep, the bed is sssooo inviting.. 

"Yeah, course 'wanna kiss more.." he tries sounding offended by that, but it just comes out mumbly and almost inaudible. He sighs when Dave gets up, then heaves another, bigger sigh when he's presented with clothes. 

After what he feels is a huge ordeal but is really putting his legs into the holes of the sweatpants and lifting his ass to hoist the pants up over his hips, he slaps his hand in Dave's limply. "Yeah, 'mready." 

Dirk hoists himself up, immediately wrapping his arms around Dave's waist and nuzzles his face into the crook of his neck, sighing contently. 

"'s jizz leakin' into your underwear right now...?" His voice is husky and playful, his hands not climbing down to feel. "You gonna sit like that'n the couch..?" His shoulders shake a little with mirth. Despite there only being a small window in there, it feels like they're standing in a sunset. 

Or something equally fucking sappy.

“Not yet…” Dave says, but he’s hyper aware of the way it sits inside him. Maybe that’s crazy, he’s not sure if he can actually feel it or if it’s just horny brain, but either way, it makes him weak in the knees. He clenches involuntarily, like maybe he can keep it in. “I’ll let you know when it happens…”

He takes both Dirk’s hands in his own, so he can take those gloves off for him. How he managed not to get cum on them is beyond Dave, but that’s not the point. With Dirk’s hands naked, Dave weaves his fingers back between his bother’s and gives him another kiss to the cheek before pulling him along to leave the room.

Karkat’s still on the couch, in exactly the same place he was before Dave left. He avoids looking at them until the last possible second, and when he finally looks up, Dave can see how flushed he is.

Cute…

Karkat’s eyes move between Dave’s satisfied face to Dirk’s tired and relaxed one, and he gives an indignant huff. “It took you long enough to calm him down,” he says. There’s a different movie playing now.

Dave shrugs, grinning. “What can I say. I’m thorough.” 

It makes Karkat bite the inside of his cheek, because he _*knows*_ that Dave is thorough. Dave used to be _*his*_ diamond. And a damn good one at that.

Dave takes his seat back beside Karkat, where he was practically in his lap before, and then pulls Dirk down on top. He wraps both arms around Dirk’s waist and buries his face in his hair with a sigh. He was right, threeway cuddles are fucking amazing.

Dirk huffs a little when they talk about him like he's not even there, but the annoyance in him has already been fucked out quite thoroughly by his truly, so he doesn't bother to protest any. 

Karkat's sharp gaze is sharp as always, not mellow at all, but it's like a knife hitting water right now. It's weird, not feeling that hot flame hunching his shoulders up, smoulder him from the inside and tenses his muscles for battle. 

He loves Karkat. 

Haha. Nobody tell him, Jesus fucking Christ he doesn't want the dude to be  _ right. _ He just hates Karkat very, very fondly. 

"Oof." Dirk collapses on top of Dave when he's pulled, and he nuzzles against Dave's t-shirt, his hand slapping onto Karkat's thigh with a firm smack. He laughs into Dave's chest, cause everything is easy and nice, and smacking Karkat's thigh is hilarious and funny. 

He rubs at the area in silent apology without really thinking about it. Breathes in deeply, imagining how it must be for Karkat to take in the hefty smell of human sex and hormones stinking up the apartment. He wonders if Karkat is wet, having heard them go at it. 

"Dave got soooo hard imagining you listening in on us, Kitten.." He strokes his thumb over the smacked spot on his thigh. "You're both really fuckin' adorbz." 

Whatever junk Karkat decides to spew at him is like a very little soothing lullaby. He can't understand shit of it, cause Dave's arms are so firm and warm around him, and despite Karkat's angry tone, he hasn't removed his hand from his thigh. 

He kinda hopes Karkat starts playing with Dave's hair while he's asleep.


	14. Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat makes a few changes. Some of them Dirk was prepared for, others he was not.

Dirk really thought things were gonna change in some big way when he and Dave asked Karkat to move in with them. Like, maybe Karkat would start wearing an apron in the morning and call him Dirk-sama, and ask him if he wanted breakfast, a bath, or  _ him.  _

But things barely changed at all. Sure, it took some time for them to empty out Karkat's flat, and yeah, refurbishing a room that was Karkat's  _ alone _ put Dirk's personal projects on hold (admittedly, it was a LOT of fun installing a coon and talking to the troll electrician about the intricacies of modern hybrid power-sourcing; he got paid extra, that's for fucking sure. ), made Dave a little stressed when Karkat's landlord started being snappy. 

But then all the stuff was moved, papers were signed, and Karkat was  _ theirs. _ They'd woken up the day after for a coffee, and it was... Like nothing had changed. Only that Karkat came out of his own room that day, still a little slimy from his coon. 

He was still grumpy as fuck, Dirk remembers fondly. 

Another result of Dave and Karkat spending even more time than usual together, is that Karkat ended up following Dave to the gym. Which, you know, would have been fine by Dirk, if it didn't also send him into a gay panic. 

Turns out, trolls build muscles  _ hella _ fast. It's not fucking fair. Not only does Dirk have to buy a LOT more groceries than he used to (he doesn't mind, loves taking care of his boys), but at some point Karkat's sweaters even got tight. Almost as tight as Dirk's fucking pants at seeing him slowly (but way too fast) gain muscle mass. 

It's all Dirk can do to try to keep up with them. He's upped his gainz and gone swimming for longer, practiced kendo till he's one big puddle of sweat, but the muscle he gains is....  _ Wiry. _ He's built for speed.

Even  _ Dave _ is putting on some sweet gainz. It grinds his gears. And stokes his fires. And makes him so constantly horny he's  _ sure _ it's not healthy. 

He hasn't said anything on it yet, doesn't want to ruin whatever sweet camaraderie Dave and Karkat have set up every Wednesday and Sunday, it most definitely also involves sex.... just. 

Something's got to give, and Dirk is afraid it's going to be his sanity. He hasn't had a good rough-housing since the last time Karkat tried topping, and that was at  _ least _ a month ago. Shit is getting  _ dire. _ He's been teasing Karkat for everything under the sun, fucked him out so hard he could barely talk after; and fuck yeah that's amazing. The power-trip is out of this world, holding a strong troll under his grip all easy-like. 

He wants to see some of that new strength though. How much do you even lift, bro? 

He wants to know. He also wants Karkat to bench-press him. He wishes he was joking.

Karkat can’t say he wasn’t surprised when the Striders asked him to move in with them. He probably should have seen it coming, considering how comfortable the three of them have gotten together. Especially since Dave finally told him he loved him. He was already at their house more often than his own, but… it just. It was a nice surprise. Made him fall a little bit more in love, and get even more extra mushy on the two of them.

Well, maybe not so mushy on Dirk. A little. But Dirk is even more annoying than ever, now that Karkat doesn’t have anywhere to go to escape him. It’s a good thing he has his own room.

He slept in his coon for exactly one (1) night, before he gave that pathetic act up. Who was he trying to kid, trying to act like he wasn’t going to sleep with one or both of them for the rest of his fucking life. The calming effects of the sopor are only  _ just _ enough to rock him to sleep without arms around him.

Ultimately, it’s not that much different, though. He falls into an easy routine with them, does all the same shit they usually do. Except now, when he goes to work and comes back home, its to  _ them. _ Every single time. And he’s so happy about that he could die.

Part of his routine that does change is his mornings. Dave goes for a run every fucking morning, and the gym several times a week. Karkat took an interest and started going with him, which turned out to be amazing?? He  _ loves _ the physical release, loves watching Dave get all hot and swollen and revved up. He loves the way it makes him feel, the energy it gives him, the  _ confidence. _

And he loves that Dirk can’t take his fucking eyes off him. Dirk hasn’t said anything, but he knows better. He can read Dirk almost as well as Dave can at this point, and he  _ knows _ that Dirk is fucking drooling over him when he’s not looking. Even when he is looking. Dirk’s been poking and prodding and trying to get a rise out of him, and it’s  _ working, _ but also… it’s cute. Dirk is cute. Dirk wants his attention.

So when Dirk starts poking at him again, he tries to keep his cool. He really does. But his new zen isn’t strong enough to block out how much he  _ hates _ Dirk Strider. How fucking hot his loathing burns inside him when Dirk antagonizes him. It’s irresistible and trying to stay cool about it is never going to happen.

So when Dirk starts goading him on, telling him he’s still just a harmless little kitten, that it’s still too easy to pin him down and make him squirm, that he can’t be  _ that _ strong if he’s never been able to fight Dirk off-- he stops listening.

He turns to Dirk, with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips set into a firm line. “Fight me, then,” he says, and every single bit of him lights up at the idea of finally putting Dirk in his place. Of throwing him down and tearing into him the way he’s practically been  _ begging _ for since the day they met. He probably could have done it before, if he wanted to, but he most definitely can now. He’s big enough that he can’t fit into Dirk’s t-shirts anymore, which is sad but not the point.

“I’ll kick your scrawny little ass,  _ sugar,” _ he promises, with the added barb of Dave’s cute little pet name to really stoke the fire. He knows he didn’t even say it right, either, and hopefully it pisses Dirk off enough to take him up. His claws are  _ itching _ for something to dig into, and Dirk is looking a hell of a lot like a scratch post.

...forget that analogy. Dirk just talks too much about cats. Fuck. Stay focused.

Dirk was just about to start roasting Karkat, he had a whole  _ rap _ ready at this point, about to smack a kitten  _ down _ from that high tree he was stuck in. 

And then Karkat  _ falls _ for it, metaphor intended. Fuck. Yes. Dirk has been itching for a fight. He's been egging Karkat on since breakfast, shoving against him, pinching his butt, flicking his horn,  _ whatever _ he could do to see Karkat's eye twitch, make his lip lift in annoyance, show him some of those pearly whites. 

Finally, Karkat says the magical words. 'fight me'. Like, Dirk would  _ ever _ refuse a strife, especially from lil softie wannabe human Karkat Vantas. Him deliberately butchering Dave's hella sweet nickname for him just stokes those fires, even though it was a friggin' weak jab. 

"Oh, kitty's got claws." He drawls out, standing up straight from where he was resting his elbows on the kitchen counter. 

"You really think you can hold a candle next to me, Kitten..?" He moves over to said kitten, rubs a hand up Karkat's chest. His gay little heart seizes at the built muscle he's able to feel up, but he manages to keep his cool. "Not gonna get distracted by balls of yarn and summerflies, hmm..?" 

Dirk gives him a quick little slap to the grubscar, smirking devilishly, then struts over towards the exit to the yard. "Yard. Now." He looks over his shoulder (and up) at Karkat, biting his lip briefly, looking Karkat up and down mockingly before heading out, grabbing the shades on the way. The sun really is a Strider's worst enemy. 

Confidently, he walks over to the asphalt-block he's had laid for what was supposed to be the basketball court. Neither him nor Dave played for a day of their life, but they felt it was staple for a sweet house like theirs. Instead, they use it as strife-ground, used to the unkind scrape of asphalt against skin as they fall.

"I don't actually want to accidentally cut your bulge off, so I'll give you a small advantage by making this hand to hand combat... Think you can handle a head-on cat-fight, Kit-kat??" Dirk shrugs off his indoor kimono-sleeve, now only in a black tank-top and utility khakis, his fateful leather gloves on. 

"I sure hope so, cause I've been waitin' for you to get your head out of your ass and ask me pretty please to beat you a fetchin' black and blue." The grin plastered on his face is shaky with excitement, and he starts stretching out as Karkat approaches, brimming with unused energy. He wonders if Karkat's even got any martial art under his belt. Raw strength is one thing, but his reflexes is shit and he can't coordinate his right fist... 

"What'cha say. First one to say give loses. Winner gets a prize." Dirk raises his brows so he can look at Karkat over the shades, "I love prizes."

At the overly excited look that grows on Dirk’s face, Karkat maybe starts to feel just a little bit of regret. He may have gotten stronger physically, but he hasn’t had to physically fight anyone since he lived on Alternia. And needless to say, if he’s counting in  _ years _ instead of sweeps, that was a long ass fucking time ago.

But he snaps out of that real quick, when he remembers that he doesn’t  _ care. _ Dirk’s terms are bullshit, and he doesn’t really care about winning or losing, all he cares about is getting his hands on that little piece of shit boyfriend of his. Son of a bitch. Irritating bastard. The object of his pitchest fantasies. His  _ spade. _

“You sure love to run that pretty mouth of yours, but let’s see if you can put your money on it,” he says. His muscles itch with fighting instincts that his body remembers, even if his brain doesn’t. He knows that DIrk is faster than him. He knows that Dirk is more skilled than him. But if Dirk can’t knock him down, then who’s inevitably going to win? Maybe this won’t be so bad.

His eyes rake over Dirk’s form as he makes his way closer, and Dirk is… god, he’s hot. He’s lean and toned and that tank is doing him every possible favor. Karkat can’t wait to fucking rip it off of him. He’s watched Dirk and Dave fight before, and he always enjoyed the show, but this is different. It’s charged, it’s fucking electric. Dirk is buzzing with an energy that Karkat can’t wait to  _ stamp out. _

It’s hot out here, with the sun beating off the pavement, but it’s nothing that any troll wouldn’t be able to handle. Still, he strips his shirt off and tosses it into the grass, because he knows damn well that Dirk won’t be able to keep his eyes off him, and even if it won’t be distracting enough to throw dirk off, it’s so deeply satisfying. He’s never had very strong opinions on his own body, but now he knows better. Neither one of his boyfriends has been able to keep their hands off him lately, and he’s not stupid.

“I’m not scared of your scrawny ass,” he taunts, as he oh so casually stands over his boyfriend. He’s close enough now, that if either of them leaned in just a little bit, their chests would touch. He feels the strongest urge to grab Dirk and do  _ something, _ but he’s not sure if it’s to kiss him or maul him. “I’ll take your bet.”

Dirk can see the way his pitch-bitch's resolve hardens, and his stomach leaps as if he's on a rollercoaster heading down.

Similarly to Karkat, wether he knows it or not, it's not about who wins, it's about setting his  _ teeth _ in Karkat. Winning is just going to be that extra little cherry on top. 

Dirk can see everything from his intensive research about trolls coming true right before his eyes. Threat-display? Check. Karkat's chin pointing in, giving him a 'charged-bull' stance, though it's a subtle one. Gaze locked on target. Approaches slowly, showing off height-difference, trying to throw Dirk off the game before it even starts. 

Loses his shirt. Well, that's not a check-point, but Dirk certainly doesn't mind. Dirk's orange gaze rakes over Karkat as much as Karkat is ogling him, and it just makes him feel even more jittery, more ready to throw down. 

He whistles in mock appreciation (see: genuine appreciation), smirk so wide his gums are showing a little bit. A part of him just wants to pull Karkat's face down to eye-level so he can devour him straight away, but it wouldn't resolve this firm, knotted ache in his chest that's telling him to _ fight _ for it.

"Aww. Scared for my scrawny lil' ass? That my poor human ass can't take it?" he meant for it to come out manipulative, so that Karkat will pull his punches a little, afraid to hurt him; of course, he failed miserably. What can he say, he hates getting freebees. And Karkat's gonna do that anyway, the soft fuck. 

And, well, at this distance it wouldn't be much of a fight. So Dirk does what he knows best; fights  _ dirty.  _

Universal, common weakness between trolls and humans; the crotch. So as his first move, he knees Karkat right in the nook, hard but not incapacitating; just enough for him to shove Karkat back, taking one step back himself, adrenaline already pumping: How will Karkat react? How angry will he be? How quick is he? 

Calculations are running wild in his head, and fuck if it doesn't make him hard. He gets into a wide stance, an imaginary sword at his side; he almost feels unbalanced without it. 

That's so fucking cool. He's gonna write that line down later. 

"Then let's dance, kitty-cat."

Karkat nearly rolls his eyes at Dirk’s half assed attempt to taunt him, but he knows better than to take his eyes off the guy.

Watching Dirk doesn’t do anything to help him stop the attack he doesn’t expect though, and soon he’s being knocked back. He doubles over briefly, the breath knocked out of him, a sharp pain exploding from his crotch.

What the  _ fuck. _ What the fuck is the matter what Dirk?

Karkat  _ snarls _ as he looks back up to meet Dirk’s eye, and he’s only made even more angry by the fact that he can’t. Fucking bullshit anime nerd ass shades. Why does Dirk even think that shit is cool? Karkat’s going to  _ rip them off his face _ and shove them up his ass.

“I’ll kill you,” he growls, and then he’s lunging for Dirk with the full weight of his body. His newly acquired weight. The thing that started all this. He’s going to slam Dirk to the fucking ground with it.

Except, he’s not.

Dirk is fast, and Karkat fucking misses him as the slippery bastard flashsteps out of the line of fire. Karkat snaps his head in the direction DIrk went, and goes for him again. “Coward,” he taunts. “Running away from me like that won’t get you to a win. I thought you said hand to hand.”

Dirk laughs darkly at the threat, crouching down extra as Karkat shoots towards him and leaping away in a quickstep just as Karkat goes to wrap his beefy arms around him. No can do, good sir. He has a match to win. 

And honestly, he shouldn't get riled up by Karkat's taunting, but... "Lettin' ya slam me with a ton of muscle ain't gonna help me win either." He sidesteps Karkat as he comes lunging again, careful not to let Karkat get a grab of him. That would be bad. 

Instead, he turns around and kicks almost gently behind Karkat's knee, making it buckle, then tries twisting Karkat's arm around to his back to incapacitate him; but Karkat is simply too strong for it, and he's able to wring his arm out of Dirk's hold with relative ease. Gotta get him on the ground, try then. 

Next strife, he'll bring rope. 

"Then again, you've been trainin' your  _ brawn, _ not your brain, so I can understand the confusion." He grins, but has to hop back so Karkat won't be able to grab him by the tank-top. 

Dirk goes in for the first fair blow; fist pulled back for force before hitting Karkat square in his chest; for most humans, it would send them crumpling to the ground, and Dirk has used it in many a barfight in his time. 

Karkat, while winded, does no such thing, his more tough exoskeleton taking the blow without doing more than bruising and putting Karkat off balance. Shit. 

He jumps back quickly, teeth pulled up in the imitation of a troll's snarl, eyes wide behind his shades. This might be more difficult than first thought. Gotta unbalance him in another way, then. "If I was a troll you'd be out, Kitten. D'you need me to school you on the basics?" he slides his hand through his hair casually, making sure he looks relaxed. "If you need me to stop we'll go with the usual safe-word."

Despite the fact that Dirk more or less just called him stupid, Karkat is definitely paying attention. He knows Dirk’s tells, can read him almost as well as Dave can.  _ Almost. _ He knows that Dirk is excited, as his accent thickens up. So naturally, when it dries out after that failed attack, he also knows that Dirk is recalculating. On the defense. A possible opening.

“I thought you didn’t want me to play pretend human anymore,” he says. His eyes are glued to Dirk’s body, trying to watch for any sign of what his next move might be. And maybe a little distracted by the way his skin is starting to shine with sweat. “If you were a troll? Please. If you don’t think you can handle me, little man, I could accept your surrender…”

He goes for the attack again, but this time, he’s prepared for the way Dirk tries to split away. He side steps at the last second, flipping direction, and he manages to grab Dirk by the front of his tank. He yanks Dirk in close and narrows his eyes, baring his teeth. “But where would the fun in that be?”

For a moment, everything stops. The spark between them flares out of control, with the proximity of their faces. The heated sexual tension rides high, gets up under Karkat’s skin and send a throb down to his nook, but it’s over just as quickly as it started. Dirk is tearing away from him, literally, leaving nothing but a scrap of black in his claw and an ache between his legs.

Shit. He should have just pushed Dirk to the ground, but he got distracted. Stupid fucking pretty ass Strider.

Dirk sputters in complete indignation;  _ little man? _ Fucking _ rude. _ "Oh don't worry 'bout me,  _ kitten, _ I've had my share of cat-fights, I'm good." 

Just as he's about to think that this little game of catch is going to be _ too _ easy for him, Karkat somehow manages to read where he's going, grabbing onto him and pulling him in and  _ damn, _ he tries weakening Karkat's grip but it's  _ impossible.  _

It really shouldn't be this hot. 

Dirk literally doesn't have the time to think further on that, because if he doesn't get out of the grip _ now _ he's lost. Luckily, Karkat seems to stop up to take in the scenery, which he’s internally thankful for; the tank-top goes, no biggie. He has about 50 of them. He rips himself out of his own clothes, doing a backwards roll to get some distance between them, a quick scrape of asphalt against his shoulderblade. 

"Oops. If you wanted to take a look at the goods you could have told me." It comes out a little clipped, because he's right back on attack, flashing up over him so he can land his feet on Karkat's shoulders and  _ push _ to the side, hoping to have him topple onto the cement. It somewhat works, in that Karkat careens forwards from the momentum, but he catches himself before he falls flat on his face. Pity. 

Dirk rolls again to nail the landing, shooting forwards to jab Karkat with his elbow, tries tripping him again, smacks him on the grubscars cause damn he's fine. 

Testing out his reflexes. Mapping him out, seeing where he's at in terms of speed, reaction time and recovery time. Besides Karkat being a brick wall, he seems soft enough that Dirk will be able to win this if he's careful about it.

Karkat groans when Dirk gets away from him, and he’s not sure if it’s out of frustration, or because Dirk looks so fucking good. He’s shining in the beating sunlight, muscles moving under his skin, every move deliberate and skilled, and he’s  _ smiling. _ He wonders if Dirk knows he’s smiling.

It’s more of a wicked grin than anything, but it’s still attractive. Maybe it’s even  _ more _ attractive.

And Dirk is bleeding, now...

He can do nothing but block and deflect as Dirk attacks him again and again. Every blow only serves to piss him off further. It  _ hurts, _ every strike is exact and precise and  _ annoying. _

“Alright, fuck this,” he growls, and then he’s snarling again as he finally moves to counter. He’s done playing these fucking games, Dirk is going down. 

He goes for Dirk’s legs, swiping them out from under him and tackling him to the fucking pavement. They go down hard, and Dirk’s head would have smacked against the concrete if Karkat hadn’t put his hand between them to cushion the fall. He might want to fuck Dirk up, but he’s not actually trying to kill him here.

He digs his knee into Dirk’s hips with the full weight of his body, and pins his forearms to the ground beside his head. He leans in menacingly, like he can’t wait to  _ eat him, _ but he stops just short. “Can you escape?” he asks, and it’s a serious question. He’s going to let Dirk try.

Yeah.  _ If _ he was being careful about it. 

With Karkat considerably slower than Dirk, it feels like he's being thrown down onto the ground in slow-motion. He manages to scream 'oh shit' in his head about three times before his back even hits the pavement, and only then does his body get with the program and hiss in a shaken gasp. 

He tries squirming away immediately, but Karkat has his hand  _ literally _ holding his head, and suddenly he has moved it to one of his- no wait, two- and  _ oof _ there's a knee on his hips,  _ ow. _

Karkat is leaning over him like he's dinner and Karkat is the starved dog under the table, and his body tells him to stay  _ still. _ There's a predator nearby. 

Yeah, thanks body, he somehow managed to deduce that. 

The question breaks him out of his little muscle-lock, and he starts writhing for real; or, tries. With the knee unkindly digging his hip into the concrete and his arms incapacitated, there's not a lot he can do. 

He  _ twists, _ even though it makes the bones under Karkat's knee shriek in dismay, tries to hook a leg over Karkat's middle and push away, but Karkat has positioned himself too cleverly, leaves his legs useless. He tries kneeing Karkat's butt, but has to chuckle inwardly, somewhat deliriously; maybe he  _ shouldn't _ remind Karkat that he kneed him now that he'd  _ under _ him. 

"-... shit." He tries digging his nails into Karkat's arms, but that's impossible too. He's like an animal possessed, trying to buck Karkat off him when it's obvious Karkat is way too heavy and forceful for that to happen. 

Finally, he slumps.... psyche, he tries freeing himself once he thinks Karkat thinks he's done, but fucking fails that too. 

"Two out of three." It's the closest he gets to a "no".

The admission of defeat is so fucking delicious, no matter how subtle Dirk is trying to be, and Karkat feels a hot rush of adrenaline and arousal. Dirk  _ lost. _ Dirk never loses, especially not at his own games.

“Poor thing…”

It’s tempting. Everything is tempting. To grind Dirk into dust. To sink his teeth into pretty reddened flesh. To dig his nails into Dirk’s wrists and watch him bleed. Fist his hair and push his face into the pavement. He’s never wanted to fuck anyone as violently as he does in this fucking moment. He wants to  _ ruin _ Dirk.

But the satisfaction he feels at having  _ beat _ Dirk outweighs all of that, at least for now. If beating DIrk once feels this good, what would beat him  _ twice _ feel like?

So he says “sure” and bends in to kiss Dirk, all heat and biting and absolutely ravenging. He doesn’t stop until he tastes blood, and he only backs off to lick it from his own lips. “Two out of three,” he agrees, and then he’s gone.

He takes several steps back, and falls into another fighting stance. He’s sure he won’t be able to pull the same trick twice, Dirk will be watching for it this time. He’ll have to find a new strategy.

The pity Karkat pretends to have  _ scalds _ him, and his face twists up as much as it heats up in humiliated anger/arousal. Luckily, Karkat hasn't decided to pluck the shades off his eyes, so he probably can't see the extent his comment affects him. 

He's honestly surprised Karkat wants- _ dares _ to have another go with him after getting that lucky break. Lips push demandingly against his, and he sighs out an angry groan at how  _ good  _ that feels. Dirk licks at his split up lips, jumping up the moment Karkat pulls back.

Dirk stands quiet for a moment, assessing. Karkat can be quick too, if he sees the pattern in the way Dirk moves. If he gets his huge troll mittens on Dirk again, it's game over and out, officer. This is why he prefers the blade There's distance, and brute force will only make the blade slice cleaner. 

Fuck, he's so wholly unprepared. Dirk's eyes scan the yard without moving his head around, looking for something to string Karkat's hands together. There's the hose, but it's probably too unbendable. He could throw weights at Karkat, but that's just dumb. Shit. He can't go for another crotch-shot, but maybe he'll fake one? He needs to focus on Karkat's legs anyway, make him fall. 

He tries. Charges and tries mimicking how he went for the crotch last time, then flashsteps behind Karkat to kick the inside of both his knees, flashstepping  _ again _ to be in front of Karkat and tackle him backwards. 

It works: Karkat definitely loses balance, and he  _ definitely _ falls onto his back with an 'oof'. Dirk manages to grab hold to Karkat's wrists and push them hard against the asphalt, his knees in the hollows of Karkat's hips, forcing all his bodyweight on the troll,  _ hoping _ it will be enough.

He realizes it isn't. He gave Karkat a too good advantage with only hand-to-hand, the brute force is just too much. 

So he leans down to mash their lips together again, doing the one thing he's better at than annoying Karkat;  _ turning him on.  _

He grabs onto one of Karkat's horns, thumb digging into the hornbed relentlessly, stroking the pad of it along the rim there. His lips, all eaten up, mashes against dark grey and black, biting down on Karkat's lower lip to get access. He pushes Karkat's head up to display his neck with the hand on his horn, and he moans breathlessly, mostly for show. 

There's been worse ways of winning, he's sure. The other hand on Karkat's wrist remains strong. He doesn't say anything, doesn't want Karkat to snap out of whatever nice horny-bubble he's in, so he kisses him deeper, already planning their next fight. Rope, net, possibly lube, oil .... So much potential.

Karkat hits the ground in record time, and really, he shouldn’t have expected anything less. He just got lucky the first time, but he has a plan for this. He knew it was coming, and he’s got a handle on it.

He lets Dirk kiss and grope at him, the way he would any other time. It’s nice, he won’t ever say it doesn’t feel amazing. Dirk is good with his hands, after all. But the key word here is ‘let.’ He’s  _ letting _ Dirk get away with this, and he’s going to finally show Dirk just how true that is.

As Dirk kisses into him, he wraps his hands around Dirk’s waist and lifts Dirk off of him. No, he doesn’t simply push Dirk off; he  _ makes a show _ of his new strength and lifts Dirk’s entire fucking body off of him, before rolling over pressing Dirk into the ground again. Dirk’s bare skin is on fire in his hands as he roams all the way up his sides, down his arms, and pins his boyfriend to the ground again.

“I win again,” he declares, as if Dirk needs the audity reminder that he’s lost twice in a row. “Where’s my prize?” His bulge is already wriggling away inside his underwear, and he doesn’t wait for a response before diving in to sink his teeth into Dirk’s shoulder. He digs his claws into Dirk’s wrists and… there’s pretty much no way that Dirk isn’t going to be a bloody mess when this is over.

It’s what he wanted though, right? Or did he just want Karkat’s hot new body pressed up against him?

He’s going to get both.

Karkat lets go of one of Dirk’s wrists in favour of dropping his hand to Dirk’s belt buckle. He’s pretty sure Dirk couldn’t escape even with only one hand pinned, and right now the priority is pants. The fight is over, the fucking is _ now. _

When Karkat doesn't immediately send him flying, Dirk thinks  _ yes. _ Another sweet victory for team Strider. Who needs muscle when you have  _ brains. _ Analysis wins again. 

It feels good, to really grope at Karkat, to let his hand knead into Karkat's wrist as he twists his tongue into Karkat's filthily. Victory is starting to sing in his chest, and he thinks Karkat is feeling him up as he moves his hands (hands-- Dirk's hand is still on his wrist, damn, wait-) and he's being lifted up- (what? No wait, shit, _ shit-) _ bodily off of his boyfriend. 

_ Benchpress.  _

The word is blinking on and off in his brain as the wind is knocked out of him briefly, hands quickly holding down his wrists again. 

Oh my god. 

Dirk is about to start writhing again at Karkat's teasing, but instead he arches his back and yelps loudly as sharp teeth sink into and through his flesh, sending hot spikes of pain radiating up his neck and down to his cock- he chokes on a breath and tries tugging his hands away from Karkat's, and it only sends pain shooting through his arms as well. 

It's like a  _ wet dream.  _

_ "yeahh--" _ it's basically a needy moan, and he grits his teeth as he realizes he's not even mad. He's not even mad losing twice in a row, and  _ that _ gets him angry. Angry and horny and  _ pitch, _ swallowing just to feel the way his skin pulls around Karkat's teeth.

"Fuck you---" His hand scrabbles uncoordinatedly against Karkat's as he starts unbuckling his belt, slapping and scratching at it, unable to see with teeth literally making it impossible to turn his head that way. "Fuck- I  _ hate _ you, you --" He thrashes, moaning when Karkat still holds on firm. 

He clamps his hand onto the wrist of the hand Karkat is using to slide his belt out, but it's uncertain enough that it's basically hanging on for the ride. A part of him genuinely starts planning his escape, sees himself plunge a finger into Karkat's eye, digs into his nostrils and tugs, whacks his one of his grubscars so hard it makes him loosen the grip. 

Calculations run wild, not really rational, not really  _ healthy _ choices he could make. He  _ could _ win still, he has a free hand, he could-- he- 

Teeth dig into him further, make him scratch against Karkat's wrist like a rabid cat. 

He's going to come before Karkat even  _ touches him. _

It’s cute, the way Dirk claws at him as if that’s going to do anything. It’s cute, and it’s…  _ weak.  _ Not in a derogatory way, it’s just that Karkat  _ knows _ Dirk is stronger than that. Is he even trying?

When his hand fits inside Dirk’s boxers, he finds Dirk’s cock hard and wet, and he has to stop biting him so he can give Dirk a look. Eyebrow raised. Smug look on his face. “Wow, Dirk, you must really like being beaten. Does it feel good? Being overpowered?”

He digs his nails into Dirk’s wrist one last time before bringing both hands down to yank Dirk’s clothes down off his hips. “To lose twice in a row, how embarrassing for you…” Sharp nails dig into the flesh of Dirk’s thighs as Karkat grabs him and flips him over. There’s the sound of scraping on pavement as he hikes Dirk up on his knees, and he can see where Dirk has already been scraped up on his back. It  _ excites _ something in him, makes him want to see more.

His hands move to the still clothed parts of Dirk’s thighs to hold him still as he bends over his kismesis. He  _ bites _ into the meat of Dirk’s thigh, and then again, licking over the wounds and tasting him. He doesn’t stop, sinking sharp teeth into thighs and ass, soothing it over with his tongue, until he’s pressing a kiss into the dip of Dirk’s back.

His hands move up to hold Dirk by the hips as he traces his nose up Dirk’s spine. “I was thinking about… holding you down and riding your face until I was done with you. Leaving you out here like this, without getting off. And as much as I know you would  _ love _ that, I don’t think it’s what you really want.” 

His hands move again, until he’s spreading Dirk’s cheeks with his thumbs. He’s got himself pressed flush against Dirk’s back, and if he didn’t still have his pants on, his bulge would be wiggling deliciously over Dirk’s hole. “Is it?” he finishes, a hot breath in Dirk’s ear. “And I’m such a nice guy, Dirk, I only want to give you what you want. Tell me.”

The bite Karkat leaves is red and surprisingly neat, the teeth having punctured the skin cleanly. After a couple of moments, the wounds fill up and starts to spill over, and Dirk's breath comes out shivery. 

Being manhandled like this, groped,  _ touched _ and judged like this, Karkat's face the epitome of the canary who got the cream, it's almost too much. He's about to argue, but as per fucking usual Karkat chooses an opportune time to manhandle him again, flip him over with a lack of care that leaves him with more burning scrapes on his palms and knees. 

Not sure what to expect, he yells out as sharp fangs clamps onto his thigh; it spurs him into trying to stand on his knees, then makes him try to crab away, but ends up moaning with a small sob at the end when Karkat repeats it ruthlessly. 

The sharp pain is like falling from a great height, sudden and scary, and it makes his stomach tie up into pretty knots for his boyfriend, his shades clattering to the asphalt as he hangs his head. He can see a couple of blood-drops next to one of his hands. 

With each bite, he struggles less, giving into the harshness of it, like a horse being trained. Less struggle, more reward, and the reward is Karkat  _ hurting _ him so wonderfully, the pain so vivid he could get lost in it. 

He is getting lost in it.

Dirk wants all of that. He wants everything Karkat's mentioned and more, so much more. Words woefully escape him, his brain only able to track how Karkat's nose is sliding up his back, how his presence behind him makes him shudder, how he sees the large shadow Karkat creates over him. The hot, low breath of a voice in his ear almost makes him cave.

Still, something in him rebels. Fuck, but he doesn't want Karkat to win this so completely. He doesn't want to go soft. He wants to  _ fight. _

"A nice guy that  _ mauls." _ He can mask how light and breathy his voice is at this point. "And for fucks sake, if you want something, you shouldn't be trying to make me guess what it is..." 

Dirk turns his head to the side so he can smash their lips together, biting down hard on Karkat's lip. He laps at the red that results in, "If you want something, you should  _ take _ it, you god damn coward..."

To help Karkat a little, he spreads his legs a little more, arching his ass out prettily for him, almost mockingly so. "Leave it to you to need an  _ invitation _ to let you top me, Kitten. Hope your bulge still works."

Sometimes it's a good thing that his mouth goes off without his brain needing to add in.

“Hm.”

Karkat licks his own bloodied lips, arousal swirling in his gut from how  _ desperate _ Dirk sounds. Is this how it always feels for Dirk? This power? Feeling Dirk tremble for his touch? Splayed out so pretty for him? Begging, obviously, in that sweet defiant way, to be fucked?

Is Karkat always this transparent, too?

“You can keep calling me kitten if that makes you feel better, but you’re the one with his claws clipped right now. He kisses Dirk one more time before sitting up, because… he loves Dirk and he can’t help it. Even when they’re being this rough, he’s still a huge sap at heart.

Anyway, he sits up and tugs his own pants down his thighs, the same way he did Dirks. Fuck taking them all the way off, they dont have time for that.

His bulge slithers and curls around in the air when it’s finally freed, and even the hot summer sun feels chilled against how  _ hot _ he is for Dirk. He’s plenty fucking wet by now, and slurry spreads across Dirk’s skin as his bulge licks at his hole. He spreads Dirk with his thumbs again, and watches as translucent red smears together with drips of blood.

His tip slips in before he means for it to, and he lets out a low groan as it tries to squirm it’s way further inside. It can’t-- it  _ could _ force it’s way in-- but--

Wait.

This isn’t nearly as difficult as it  _ should _ be. Karkat is only left to wonder why for about half a second before he’s struck with the fact that it’s probably Dave’s handiwork.  _ Handy work. _ He’s not unfamiliar with what Dave’s hands can do, and in this exact moment, he’s never been more grateful.

He stuffs his bulge in nearly all the way before bending over Dirk again to fist a hand in his hair. He tugs Dirk’s head back and bites into his shoulder again, hissing with low satisfaction as his bulge wiggles away inside Dirk’s body. “You’ve sure been getting around, huh?” he asks, before he can stop himself. He can’t stop himself from teasing though-- topping Dirk is just  _ so satisfying. _ And knowing that Dave does it too somehow makes him feel more powerful. Like they can take Dirk down together, knock him down a few pegs from his pedestal.

Just ‘cause Karkat's showing more of his predator side than usual, that doesn't make him less of a kitty-cat. Just a much bigger, more dangerous one. 

When Dirk feels Karkat's bulge tonguing at his rim, his hole twitches in a greeting kiss, and he sighs in pure arousal. After Dave suddenly got interested in topping him, he's been ... maintaining his assets. Pun intended. So when the bulge curls up and into him, he hangs his head with another obscene moan, feeling deliciously spread and used, knees throbbing and stinging enough that he squirms. 

"--- _ Ah-" _ The bulge slides in easier than Dave's dick does, probably because of the natural lubrication.  _ "Shit, _ well thank fu-- uhghn...  _ Fuck _ I did, you noob-- ahh who forces their whole bu-... uhn..." The thing is  _ thrashing _ inside him, and it feels exquisite; so wet it squelches when it wriggles all the way to the base, and Dirk feels deliciously full. Karkat's bulge is softer, but also larger than Dave's, and the difference from the first time Dirk had Karkat in him, this just feels plain  _ good. _

Or so he thought, before his hair is tugged back, makes him stand on his knees and the tips of his fingers as Karkat pulls him up by his hair and bites, and Dirk whines out a watery moan, feeling small little trails of blood travel their way down the length of him. 

"mhh, more...." the ache in his hairbed makes him tear up, but he moves his arms behind himself so they go over his head, just so that he can claw up Karkat's back. "Hurt- more, you god- ...  _ aaahh-" _ He feels like the scratches should have made him bleed dry, his face is so red, his breath so quick and deep it's hurting his lungs, "a-all of your bulge at least, you asshole, 'can feel-.. Hmm.." 

Despite how much he still manages to say, it's obvious this is a fight he's losing. His voice is light and almost soft, drool dripping to join blood on the ground, his hole twitching and trying to suck Karkat's bulge in further. 

He needs to feel more, needs to feel how Karkat won't let him go. Despite the bulge in him reacting enthusiastically, making his knees weak, he tries kicking away from the troll, escape. A last ditch effort to get Karkat to hold him  _ down, _

It's not before he feels Karkat push his upper chest  _ down, _ making his cheek rub against concrete, ass up in the air pleasuring his troll-dick that Dirk let's himself properly feel the humiliating burn of arousal sink him into something more yielding.  _ "Yeahhh...." _ He flutters his eyes shut, feeling how the summer heat, the heavy smell of sweat and blood filling his nostrils, his cock so hard it's leaking onto the ground as well. 

Dirk tries getting back up on all fours, but the hand on his back is too firm; he just sighs, letting his arms go lax, clamping down on Karkat's bulge and biting his lower lip. 

"Karkat..."

Karkat only shoves Dirk harder down into the pavement with every noise the guy makes. It’s like a vicious circle of  _ ’wow it feels good to hurt him’ _ and ’wow he really likes it when I hurt him’ and  _ ’damn I should hurt him some more.’ _

He wonders what kind of noises Dirk would make if he  _ really _ dug his nails in and just--  _ fucking tore at him. _ As rough as he has been with Dirk so far, it could be so much worse, and he’s not actually sure what Dirk can take. He’s never… he’s never lashed out like this against a human before, and he’s a little worried that it starts to border on dangerous.

Keep it together, Karkat, jesus christ. He’ll tell you if it’s too much.

He rocks his hips all the way into Dirk, sinking his bulge in as far as it will go. It throbs where it’s surrounded by hot walls. His nook leaks down his own thighs and slurry wets both their pants and drips onto the ground. It’s lewd and wet compliments the sounds of their panting perfectly. Dirk’s moans…

_ Dirk’s moans.  _ He doesn’t really get to hear much of that when Dirk is in control. It’s sweet. It’s captivating. It’s delicious. He almost wishes Dirk were on his back, so he could kiss him. Eat up every last drop of him and keep him like this forever.

But how much fun would it be to shove Dirk right off the edge and watch him fall?

That same sick smirk spreads across his face again and he reaches around to wrap one firm hand around Dirk’s dick. He grinds against him, bulge squirming away inside, and stroking his cock in time. “Are you going to fall apart for me, baby?” he asks. The hand on Dirk’s back curls in to claw at him again, a long, slow line, all the way down his back.

"Nnghh..." Feeling Karkat push inside him all the way, the way Karkat's hips rocks hard against his own, how he feels wet drip against him; it all keeps him from fighting for freedom; despite Karkat being on top, he still listens, can't help but give Dirk what he wants. 

"Fuck, 's so good...." His voice comes out choked and slurred against the pavement. He's sure he's inhaled at least two pebbles from how hard he's panting. 

He can only twitch and gasp as a hand squeezes around his hard dick, and he squirms, lightheaded by the mix of burning hurt and wet, slick pleasure. Fuck, but this is so much, he can barely keep track of it all.

As if he's not already fraying at the seams. He's close to giving Karkat exactly what he wants, he can  _ feel _ it, as clearly as he can feel Karkat's bulge lapping at his insides, rubbing against his prostate in a way that makes his thighs shiver with every stroke. 

"I'm-  _ nngh!" _ A line of fire trails down his back, hard enough that it sends prickles of pain to random places on his back, like an oil-splash. Not really thinking about how he's able to move his upper body again, he moves his hand back to cling onto Karkat's thigh, shivering. 

"So - close.. Karkat, 'm --...shit-" with his voice so breathy it's almost high-pitched, and he brings his other hand to his mouth so he can bite at the knuckles, "'m gonna come-- ughh,  _ fuck,  _ Kar---kat, Karkat 'm gonna come-" He rolls his hips the best he can, fucking into Karkat's fist wantonly, making his muscles on his back bulge and contract attractively.

Power surges in Karkat and swirls together with his arousal. To feel Dirk shaking apart for him, putty in his hands, it feels  _ good. _ One more little push, and Dirk will be crying for him, he’s sure of it.

“Cum, then,” Karkat encourages,  _ challenges, _ as he strokes Dirk off even harder. He rocks his hips in languid motions as he bends himself over Dirk again to bite into his neck. 

It isn’t long, before he feels Dirk spilling over his fingers. He bites down even harder, stroking Dirk through the height of it until he’s wrapping his fingers tightly around the base. He wants to keep Dirk hard and sensitive while he keeps fucking him, becuase  _ Karkat isn’t done. _ “Wow, you make the prettiest noises when you’re not too busy talking. You should talk less.”

He brings bloodied fingers up Dirk’s body again, until he’s stuffing them into Dirk’s mouth. He pressed down on Dirk’s tongue, pulling another delicious noise from him, before he’s hooking his fingers in and  _ tugging. _ He lets go of Dirk’s cock in favour of picking him up again, getting Dirk’s body to follow his own as he settles back onto the pavement.

Dirk’s back falls flush against his chest, laid out on top of him, as he bucks his hips up into his boyfriend’s ass. Fingers press deeper into Dirk’s mouth as he kisses and sucks at Dirk’s bloodied neck.

Dirk will never admit to cumming on command. It's not even in his vocabulary, as scarce as it is at the moment. 

He just  _ happens _ to come right after Karkat challenges him to.

Shi _ iiiit, _ his vision goes sparkly for a couple of moments, the pain in his neck making him mewl pathetically, his hips twitching, his asshole clamping down onto Karkat's length as he rides out his orgasm- only, he can't ride it out completely, cause Karkat's hand is gripping him too tight. 

"-ugghh..." He groans in dazed aggression, trying feebly to at least get back on all fours again. He manages, because he's badass like that. Dirk can feel the way Karkat's hand tracks up his body, but he's so disconnected he doesn't see where it's going until blood-sticky fingers are forcing their way into his mouth. 

Not sure what to target, the hand on his dick or the fingers in his mouth, he hesitates, one hand coming up to wrap around the hand on his dick, and he moans pleadingly around thick fingers, sighing out as his words come out garbled. He's pretty sure Karkat gets the point, cause he removes his hand-- _ ow--  _

The surroundings just a blur for a moment, and then there's a firm wall of muscle against his back, legs splayed obscenely wide. Karkat's bulge thrives on having gravity on its side and it burrows deeper inside, making Dirk's shoes scrape over asphalt as he tries curling up on himself; impossible of course, thick thighs keeping him spread open nicely.

_ "Unnghh..." _ When copper-tasting fingers shoves deeper into his mouth, he coughs feebly around them before swallowing convulsively, tongue starting to rub against the pads of them. He tilts his head to the side when a hot mouth starts sucking on his neck. 

Everything is blurring into each other. His palms and knees burn, but so does his stomach, his ass, his throat, his  _ eyes. _ Dirk brings one hand up to dig into Karkat's hair, the other one palming his own dick almost gently. Blood slicks him up, more than he already was, and he sighs contently around the thick, probing fingers. 

The bulge in him thrashes, and he gives off a dry little sob, thighs trying to twitch together- he's so damned sensitive it  _ hurts. _ Hurts so good- fuck it's so good....

His eyes slip shut, and he makes out with Karkat's fingers, mimicking the way Karkat's making out with his neck.

Grinding his hips does little to actually help him fuck Dirk, with the way his bulge does it so well all on it’s own. It curls and twists and undaults perfectly inside Dirk and it feels amazing, but. Karkat is so used to rocking back against Dirk’s cock, he can’t help but rock his hips. His body does it all on it’s own, an automatic response to stimulus.

And he’s taking longer than he usually would to cum, too. Again, he’s so used to having something fucking into his nook, he’s… well. He doesn’t know what he is but he’s almost glad for the delay in peak. The longer he lasts, the farther he can pull Dirk apart. The opportunity is too rare to take lightly. Dirk is going to  _ cry _ for him.

Fingers stay stuffed in Dirk’s mouth as his other hand moves to knock Dirk’s away from his cock. He wraps his own hand around it and starts to stroke him with cruel indifference to how much it probably hurts. “Still hard for me…” he murmurs, where his lips are still pressed to Dirk’s throat. “What a greedy boy.”

Dirtier words come to mind. Disgusting things that Dirk says to him when he’s the one being torn to shreds. But somehow he thinks that softer words are what will hurt Dirk the most. His real weakness.

“I love seeing you like this,” he says. He pulls his fingers from where they had been goddamn near pushing into Dirk’s throat, spreads thick saliva down his chin as he grips his jaw. He watches Dirk’s mouth force itself open with the squeeze, before lowering his hand again to wrap around Dirk’s throat. He nibbles at Dirk’s ear, his voice a rasp. “Aren’t you going to cum again? Show me how much you like this. It hurts, doesn’t it?”

If Dirk was ever fucked by a tentacle monster, which he regretfully hasn't as of yet, this would probably be the closest to how it would feel. 

Dirk was pretty sure that Karkat was gonna blow relatively quickly in this new position, especially with all the stimulation to his bulge, but it just keeps  _ going. "Aahh--.." _ Dirk tucks his chin in the best he can with fingers in his mouth, the extra friction of Karkat thrusting his wriggly into him enough to make his eyes water. It feels so big inside him, with it moving around heedlessly to where it pushes and slides.

When he looks down, he's kind of expecting Karkat's tentacle dick to make his stomach bulge out a little; he's a little surprised, and a little disappointed when it doesn't. 

As he looks down, he can see his own hand being pushed away by a darker, grey one, and he chokes on a shout as it wraps tight around him, enough to make the tears spill over again. He garbles something that's probably a plea around Karkat's fingers, writhing in his hold, the hand in Karkat's hair tugging pathetically. It feels numb by now.

"Buahh--  _ aahm,, _ 'kat-" blood-filled lips squish as Karkat squeezes his jaw, and he rolls his eyes up, hating and loving how easily Karkat can move him around like a puppet. More tears squeezes out from the humiliation, and he gives another miserable thrash when the hand wraps around his throat. 

The thought of Karkat choking him like this makes his skin prickle with frantic, frightened arousal. He can't go on like this. He  _ can't. _ Karkat is pushing at so many of his buttons he feels like he's going to break. 

He  _ wants _ to break. 

"-ch-" He throws his head back, hips fucking against Karkat's bulge and into his fist on borrowed energy, "choke me- choke me," His vision is blurry as the tears spills over his cheeks, and he grits out a dirty, frustrated moan, breath coming out quicker, voice tight in anticipation "so close, gonna-...  _ mm-" _

The hand tightens around his throat, and Dirk gurgles pathetically as his body clenches up, practically bouncing in Karkat's lap with the instinctive jolts his body gives when he comes. He goes almost silent, glad for the hand squeezing at him- the hand on his dick on the other hand is  _ unbearable; _ only a small couple of pearlescent come beads on the tip, smeared away by a clawed thumb. 

Even then, he's not given a break. Karkat  _ keeps _ fucking into him. The hand on his throat loosens to something more supporting than choking, and he cough-sobs and leans into the hold, drooling heavily onto the concrete between them, eyes gazing unseeingly at the pink-translucent slick that pools there, connected by a string to his mouth. 

"--..uh--" The hand not in Karkat's hair (neck? Did he move it?) grips at his knee instead, trying to grip onto something when he feels he's floating away, breath only seeming to come out faster and faster. 

Too much- too much, he might pass out. Fuck, so hot. Is Karkat still gonna fuck him? Come all over him and leave him there to burn in the sun?

Karkat doesn’t think twice about it when Dirk asks to be choked, He squeezes, and then Dirk’s body squeezes, and everything happens, all at once, all in slow motion and all too fast. Dirk’s orgasm triggers his own, and the pavement  _ floods _ with genmat.

He stays like that for a long, drawn out moment, with both his hands still wrapped around Dirk’s neck and dick. His bulge slows in it’s thrashing, through it still moves in slow waves. He hums satisfactorily as he moves his clean hand (well… the hand without cum on it) to push through Dirk’s hair in an act of affection.

“Wow, Dirk… twice in a row… I wonder how many more times you could do that.” It’s a genuine question, even if he doesn’t expect Dirk to answer it. It’s rare that he sees Dirk cum more than once, and he’s not sure how much more he can take.

Gently, probably  _ too _ gently, considering he just finished  _ choking _ Dirk, he rolls them around until Dirk is on his back again, and Karkat is on top of him. His bulge automatically slips itself around Dirk’s cock, slow licking and satisfied stroking, as he leans in to kiss away what little breath Dirk has left.

He pets a hand through Dirk’s fucked up hair again and looks down on him with dark, focused eyes. “All teasing aside, are you actually okay? It’s okay if you want to stop… what’s your color?”

He seals the question with another kiss, unable to help himself. Dirk looks… Dirk looks fucking wrecked. Dazed and bloody fuck-drunk. He looks… ripe for the piling. Karkat isn’t sure what he wants more, to take Dirk to bed and cuddle the shit out of him, or to keep fucking him until he literally doesn’t know who he is anymore.

It’s up to Dirk then, isn't it.

Dirk's mind is too foggy to really listen to whatever it is Karkat is murmuring into his neck.

His back slaps somewhat gently onto the asphalt, his lower back hitting the pool of genmat. Dirk is still panting, his thighs screaming in relief as they at least lose his bodyweight, one leg hooked over Karkat's thigh while the other is under the troll. 

A pained moan-turned sob pushes itself into their kiss as the bulge makes out with his way oversensitive dick, but he's too lax to buck away. But away to where, anyway. There's concrete behind him. Everything is so warm. Karkat over him is so warm, the wet pool between their legs is warm, the asphalt is scorching from the summer sun. He could definitely fall sleep here. 

A hand pushes back his hair, and he leans against it, nodding to whatever it is Karkat's saying, his breath coming out as soft sobs- he's not sure why; he feels  _ so _ good. He feels the vibration of Karkat's voice, and his head is way too stuffed with cotton and bright, sharp pain to translate that into words. 

Or, well, he's lying. It just takes a lot of effort and a lot more time than usual. He's still mid-kiss with Karkat before he realizes that he asked for his colours. What a fascinating question. What  _ is _ his color..? 

The kisses he gives Karkat is sloppy and and soft, and he brings his hands up just to cup at Karkat's face, panting against his mouth when their kiss ends.

He can feel his adrenaline euphoria slowly ebbing, the pain starting to sink in. He's slow to tally up his hurts: bites on his ass, thighs, neck and shoulder, all bleeding sluggishly; non-lethal. Lips are bruised and bloody. A scratch on his back, punctured skin where Karkat's been grabbing him, his cock is  _ still _ being fondled. 

It's starting to feel like. Like a  _ lot. _ He realizes his hands are trembling pretty badly against Karkat's cheeks. It still ... But Karkat isn't done yet, right..? He can go for more, just needs a bit more stimulation to- 

"Gre-.." Mmmwait.. This is kinda like before, isn't it? They went too far, Dirk pushed them both too far. Only this time it's physical. Dirk feels a phantom sensation of how bad that felt, after. 

"Orange." It comes out as defeat, as a  _ pout. _ He kisses at Karkat in apology, possibly murmuring it against his lips, he's too fucked up to know for sure. "m'dick -- mmhhurts..." He  _ knows _ he says that. 

See? He can compromise. He can still do this.

Karkat makes a noise that’s somewhere between a hum and a purr. His eyes go soft as he looks at Dirk because… Dirk trusts him enough to tell him that he’s had enough. He remembers a Dirk who would  _ never _ admit to something like that. Like it’s a loss, or something to be ashamed of, to be defeated. They’ve come so far as a couple, Karkat’s heart pounds in his chest for it. He’s so fucking weak for this man, it’s outrageous.

He lifts his hips enough to get his bulge to let go of Dirk, and then bends his head down to kiss him softly. “Love you…” he says. And then, “That was fun.”

He’s grinning as he moves to stand up, and he’s thankful for the privacy fence surrounding the yard as he kicks off the rest of his soiled clothing. He helps Dirk out of his, too, and leaves the pile of shoes and pants on the pavement for later as he scoops Dirk up and starts to carry him inside.

Dirk gives off a shaky little sound as Karkat lets go of his dick, and relaxes against the pavement, brows scrunched up and eyes orange slits as he looks up at the troll. "Love you too." A kiss, and then he's moving away? 

So far away. Is he getting up? 

"-noo.... cm'back, tiger.." Dirk is sprawled onto the concrete like a dishevelled starfish, hands going after Karkat before flopping over his head uselessly. 

Sooo warm. And so  _ tired. _ He moves a hand back down to wipe at the tears-tracks on his face, rubbing almost childishly, breath still shaky. His hand stings like fucking crazy when salty tears slips into the scrapes he's attained. 

He jumps a little when he feels hands on him again, then laughs breathlessly as he realizes Karkat is stripping him. 

"Oh... hehe." He'd add something snarky, but he can't think of anything. Can't think at all. Hands are on him again, for a hug, which is nice. Then suddenly he's upright, and he heaves out a groan at the vertigo. The sunlight hits him right in the face, and he winces and hides it against Karkat's chest, a soft 'ugh' muffled between them there. 

"..... mmwait, hmm...?" Gears are turning exceptionally slow, but they're doing their best, "noo, 'snot over yet, is it..?" His voice betrays him, cause he sounds a tiny bit relieved. VERY disappointed, but a little relieved. 

"'said  _ orange, _ tiger, not red.... hehe, orange tiger.."

...Tiger, hm? Karkat wonders how long Dirk has been holding onto  _ that. _ There’s no way, as sloppy as he is right now, that he just came up with it. Is it because he’s too big to be called Kitten, now?

Karkat’s not sure how he feels about that. As much as he pretends to hate the nickname, it presses his buttons perfectly.

Tiger, though… Well, he guesses that’s cute, too. In its own way. In a way that feels like Dirk trusts him again, the same way it felt when he said orange. Like Dirk is okay with not being in control for once.

“We don’t have to be done…” he promises. “But we do have to take a break. You’re kind of bleeding a lot. We need to patch you up.”

He reaches to open the back door, but it slides open before he even touches it. Dave is standing on the other side.

For a second, Karkat freezes. Dirk is… well, fucking shreded, and Karkat was the one that did it to him, and Dave is seeing it, and holy shit, how much more of it did he see?? The back door is nothing but a giant window, he could have seen the whole thing, oh god, is Dave going to be mad at him, is he--

“Hey,” Dave says, glancing back and forth between Dirk’s face and Karkat’s. “I see that you, uh… had a nice strife.”

“...yeah,” Karkat hesitantly agrees.

Another tense moment passes between them, before Dave says, “Well, come on, then. I’ll help you clean him up. I can’t see anything that looks like it needs stitches, but…”

The casual tone in Dave’s voice allows Karkat to release the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. The tension bleeds from his shoulders as he nods and follows Dave into the bathroom.

"mmkay.." That seems to settle him down a lot, nodding into Karkat's chest. The door slides open, and he's about to ask why Karkat stopped. 

Oh- "Dave-?" He turns his head so he can focus on his best bro, about to be worried; what if he'll get triggered or something..?? But no, he seems fine, voice steady and light enough. 

Easy relief soothes out whatever hesitation he was starting to build, and when the three of them reach the bathroom, Dirk reaches out a hand towards Dave, "- greeting kiss." It's genius, this system they've made. It means Dirk can demand so many kisses every time they meet. 

Even if they meet casually in the house. 

No-one has caught on yet, which is the best part.

Dave should probably be a lot more grossed out by Dirk’s dirty, bloody mouth, but… it’s Dirk. So he kisses him anyway when he asks for it, and then kisses his forehead too, for good measure. “Someone’s in a good mood,” he comments, as he starts to wipe Dirk’s mouth with a rag.

Jesus, he is  _ fucked up. _ Again, Dave is glad that Karkat doesn’t treat him this way, and that Dirk  _ likes _ to be treated this way. He’s not sure how they all balance each other out so perfectly, but it works, and he’s not going to question it.

“Yeah,” Karkat agrees. He’s sitting on the toilet with Dirk in his lap. He’s actually really fucking glad that Dave is here to help. This way, he can keep holding Dirk while Dave does the cleaning up. He feels… a little bad, that Dave has to do all the work, but Dave is better than him at this, and Dave offered, so.

He watches Dave move across Dirk’s skin, wiping away blood and cum and dirt and whatever else happens to be caked on Dirk’s skin. He cradles Dirk while Dave applies antiseptic, bandages, the whole nine yards. It’s soothing, in a way, to see how well he works. God, he loves them both so fucking much.

“There’s uh, more,” Karkat says, when Dave finishes through the front side of him. He moves Dirk around in his lap (who is basically fucking sleeping, seriously, how is he still conscious) until Dirk is facing him. He encourages Dirk to wrap his arms around his neck, and then looks at Dave again. “Thighs, too…”

Dave raises an eyebrow at him, before letting his eyes follow the nasty claw marks down Dirk’s back, to his ass, and then… they’re going to have to lift Dirk up to get to the rest. Damn.

“Damn,” Dave says out loud, but he doesn’t mention it past that. If They’re both fine with this, then… Dave is, too. Even if he doesn’t understand it.

"Mmm..." 

Dirk's eyes trail over Dave, taking in his handsome features, his focused gaze. It makes his chest feel all tight in that special way only Dave can make it, and Dirk snuffs a little, settling his bodyweight into Karkat, pliant and easy for Dave to move and twist and bend whichever way makes it easier for him to bandage him up. 

There's small hisses and soft little moans where antiseptics are involved, making warmth curl in his stomach. When the stinging scrapes and punctures on his hips gets disinfected, his cock jumps, though it doesn't manage to fill up enough to make a difference. 

"--mmh..." A bandaged hand soothes over a grey arm around his middle, a nail scraping against the skin in a weak little retaliation, eyes slipping shut. 

Which only makes him whine a little as he's moved around, eyes slitting open and locking gaze with Karkat in annoyance before he's manhandled so he's wrapped his arms around Karkat's neck. 

Okay. That's actually comfy as fuck. 

He gives Karkat a sloppy little kiss before nuzzling into Karkat's neck, the bridge of his nose fitting so perfectly it shuts out most of the light from the bathroom. 

"Two hunky, fit dudes... fondlin' me up in a bathroom... 'm so god damned lucky.." His voice has gotten that kinda dreamy that suggest he's about to take a nap, his breath evening out and deepening as he speaks. A hand drifts to Karkat's hair, soothing at it the way he would Dave's. 

He's getting a bit tangled up with who's who, but that's okay. Cause they're both here, and "y'both like havin' your hair played with.. hmhm, but Dave the most. hmhmhm...." He gives Karkat's trapped lock a little tug, then soothes at his scalp again.

Dave and Karkat make eye contact over Dirk’s shoulder, unable to keep the grins off their faces. They both agree, there’s no way around it, Dirk can be cute when he wants to be. Well, Dave  _ always _ thinks Dirk is cute, but Karkat usually thinks he’s an annoying bastard.

A cute annoying bastard, but not so cute that his pitch flame could ever die. Karkat wants to smack Dirk on a regular basis, as much as he wants to kiss him.

Karkat helps lift Dirk’s ass up, so Dave can reach the backs of Dirk’s thighs. Soon enough, Dirk is all patched up and ready to go. Dave stands to give them each a kiss. Karkat offers to let Dave nap with them, but Dave turns him down. They both know that this isn’t Dave time, and Karkat loves him even more for recognizing that and being okay with it.

“Come on, then,” Karkat says again, as he hefts Dirk up and carries him to bed. They’re both disgusting still, and he could definitely stand to take a shower, but Dirk might actually drown in the state he’s in. They can wait until he’s had some rest.

Karkat settles into Dirk’s bed, with Dirk wrapped up against his chest, and pulls the blankets over them. The room is bright still, the blinds open, but he’s comfortable nonetheless. Even if he might not actually sleep.

He pets a hand through Dirk’s hair and kisses him on his gross little forehead.

Dirk kisses Dave goodbye (another kiss, they just don't know how much he manages to sneak in these days), and then he feels like Karkat needs a kiss himself, so he leans back to give Karkat a slow kiss as he rises from the toiletseat, Dirk in his arms. 

"Damn... how much to you benchpress, bro..." Hands wanders over Karkat's shoulders and down his arms a little, and he lets Karkat really see how hot he finds it, biting his lip briefly before kissing him again, snuggling into his neck again. 

Almost too soon he's put to bed, and he's shameless when he immediately seeks the heat laying down next to him, huddling up and slotting their legs together, sighing happily. 

Karkat must be vacillating a little, cause he's being awfully soft. Dirk finds he doesn't mind, not when he's pushed Karkat so far today. Dirk  _ deserves _ this softness for being so productive. 

Again, his hands wander, gently mapping Karkat out. He knows every little (and big) muscle on him, but it still feels nice, tucked under Karkat's chin as he is. Makes him feel hella protected. 

After a while (and a lot of kisses at Karkat's chest and neck, licking away some of the sweat and blood there), he sighs contently, slipping his eyes shut. He'll have to say this before he falls asleep, or he won't say it at all, he knows. 

"... thanks for stoppin'. y'know. Just... thanks." His hand gives Karkat's pec a small rub. "Hate you. Love you." 

He takes a deeper breath, letting himself slip into the wonderful emptiness of his own head.

It feels…  _ really _ good, knowing that Dirk finds him so attractive. Like, Karkat knew Dirk thought he was attractive before. There’s no way that Dirk would have done some of the  _ things _ he did to Karkat if he didn’t. But the fact that Dirk can’t even keep his hands off him now, it’s.. It’s nice.

He lets his own hands idly cradle Dirk’s body against his own as Dirk continues to feel him up, even as the guy is falling asleep.

And then, Dirk is saying thank you, and  _ he loves him, _ and Karkat is warm all over again. A few months ago, Dirk would have scoffed in his fucking face if he said he loved him. But now… things are so fucking good now, he’s so glad that they pushed through those rough times to get here. “Of course…” he answers, but he’s not sure that Dirk even hears him. 

He gladly wraps Dirk up even snugger and closes his own eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely.... forgot to upload this chapter..... my bad yall.............
> 
> Two more about to hit you rapid fire, get ready for a triple update.


	15. Dirk/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys sit down to watch a movie. 
> 
> Well. 
> 
> Karkat watches a movie.

Karkat has been promised that these movies are worth the time it takes to watch them. He’s never been one that was super into fantasy, or sci fi, or whatever the fuck these movies are classified as, he doens’t care, but he’s been well assured that the romance is heavy enough to keep his attention.

Even troll movies aren’t  _ this _ long, though. Without breaks, supposedly, it takes about 12 hours to sit through it all. He’s not sure if he has that in him, but he’s managed to convince his boyfriends to sit and watch it with him.

So here they are, Dave and Dirk settled into the couch with… probably what would be considered an appropriate amount of enthusiasm, as Karkat sticks the first DVD in the xbox. He comes back to his own corner of the couch, beside Dirk, with Dave on the other end, and he clicks through the menu until the movie is ready to start.

“You two ready?” he asks. There’s no reason for them not to be. They’ve got snacks and drinks spread out across the coffee table. They’ve got blankets. They’ve got pillows. What else could they need?

"Don't think we can get more ready if we tried, tiger." They've been nagging at Karkat since he's moved in to see it. Ripping him away from his beloved (trashy) romcoms has been a quest and a half, maybe helped by John's terrible taste in movies, but finally, Karkat has conceded to watch it with them. 

Dirk ruffles Karkat's hair as he settles next to him, his other hand casually resting on Dave's blanket-covered thigh. He's probably watched Lord of the Rings about fifty times; he knows the lines by heart. He could tell you the storyline without a hitch. He's seen the behind the scenes more times than he can count. 

This is legit a really good film, and he can't wait for Karkat to try to rip it apart when there's no obvious flaw. Besides Sam and Frodo not being hella gay for each other but whatever. 

The movie starts, and Dirk sinks into the couch a little more, getting comfy. The beginning is so sweet, and Frodo is so fucking charming. Never mind that Gandalf is wilf. Wizard I'd like to fuck. 

Lulled by the soft, happy scenery and sweet music, he leans his head on Dave's shoulder, his other hand still holding Karkat's neck somewhat possessively; though not stroking it; doesn't want to distract the dude from this masterpiece. 

When the firework-dragon opens its jaw on screen, Dirk mimics it and gives Dave's neck a little nibble, smirking and gripping Dave's thigh a little firmer. "Remember you were scared of that as a kid..?" He huffs it amusedly into Dave's ear, soothing at his thigh, his shoulders shaking a little in mirth.

Karkat still isn’t quite used to the new nickname, and ‘tiger’ makes him cross his arms and sink into the couch a little more. He’s firmly in his own corner, with his own blanket wrapped around his own shoulders to ward off any distractions. He’s well aware of the fact that both his boyfriends like to get handsy when they’ve been sitting still for too long, and if they’re going to keep ragging on him for never having seen this, then he’s going to soak in every last detail.

The hand on his neck is… fine, though. He can deal with that.

Dave, however, is much more susceptible to distractions. He probably hasn't seen the series as many times as Dirk has, but he’s seen it enough to know exactly how every scene plays out. It’s barely started, though. and Dirk is already touching him, and he can’t help but feel pretty fucking good about that. Is this how the next twelve plus hours are going to be?

He turns his head back a bit, letting the nibbles on his throat ripple through him and settle warmly in his gut. “I’m still scared,” he lies, hushed. He puts a hand on top of Dirk’s, encouraging. “I think I need you to help me keep my mind off it, so I don’t start crying or something. Shit is mad terrifying.”

“Shh,” Karkat hisses at them. “If you’re going to flirt through the entire movie, can you do it less obnoxiously?” It’s too early on for this, jesus, he’s not going to make it if they keep pulling his attention away. Maybe if they’re focused on each other, though, they’ll leave him alone, which is… good, probably. As long as they’re quiet.

Dirk's eyes legit goes soft for a moment; aww, Dave still gets scared-? Oh-. Oh, right, he knew that. Right. 

He gives Karkat a little tug to the hair before giving him a small parting stroke to the cheek, "touchy, touchy." then turns around so he's facing Dave almost completely, murmur-whispering in his ear so only he can hear it. 

"Is lil Davey scared..? Aw..." He plants a soft little smooch on Dave's sideburn, continuing to stroke over Dave's thigh, the hand on his warm and dry. "I'll distract you 'ntil the scawy pawt is ower, okay...?" He continues pressing dry, teasing little kisses over his side-burn and to his cheekbones, smile widening as he suppresses a little laugh. 

They're absolutely ridiculous. 

"Gotta be quiet though, or you'll awaken the wrath of the tiger...." he slips both their hands under the blanket so he's stroking at Dave's bare thigh; movie marathon means singlets and boxers, of course.

"Mmkay, Davey...?"

“Oh,  _ I _ can be quiet,” Dave says. He doesn’t finish his sentence, lets the  _ ’but can you?’ _ hang unspoken between them. 

He might be… in a mood. The kind of mood that makes him want to pick Dirk apart as slowly as possible and watch him struggle for breath. In the sweetest, most pale way possible, of course. Who else will do it, when Dirk’s boyfriend is so thoroughly occupied with something else? It’s only the right thing to do.

Nevermind that he would do exactly the same thing to Karkat. It… feels different when it’s Karkat. It just is. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, fuck off.

He lets this go on for a while, Dirk kissing on him and touching him under the blanket. Inevitably, he’s hard, and Dirk is stroking along his length, open palmed, over his boxers. It’s a tease, but it’s not a tease that Dave can’t handle. It  _ does _ prompt him to finally turn and give Dirk a proper kiss, though.

He touches Dirk back, fingers slipping up under his loose tank and curling around his waist, until he’s got a warm hand on Dirk’s back, pulling him closer. He peppers Dirk’s lips with kisses, short, sweet, dry. Over and over, until he decides to let one stick, and he tugs Dirk even closer still. 

Maybe Dirk will come into his lap all on his own, without any prompting. He can tell, from the way Dirk kisses him, that Dirk is warring on the inside over whether or not he wants to keep control or not. Dave is  _ positive _ that he can convince him to let it go.

A glance over Dirk’s shoulder confirms that Karkat isn’t paying attention, so Dave gently nudges Dirk’s chin up with a knuckle, so he can kiss over fading, barely healed bite wounds. Courtesy of Karkat himself; thanks babe. They’re probably still sore, and Dave knows that kissing them will make them ache.

.. A challenge? 

Dirk can only smirk when Dave caves and turns to kiss him. Mmhm, sure you can be quiet, Davey-boy... 

Seeing as they have about twelve long hours in front of them, he sees no issue with taking this slow. The palm on Dave's clothed dick goes at a snail's pace, and he doesn't utter more than a slight breath out when he's pulled closer. As a warm hand splays over his back and makes a small thrill curl in his stomach.

So demanding. 

Slowly, he's being chipped away at with little kisses, his more imaginative ideas for the evening being pecked away with happy ease. He sinks a little deeper against Dave, a leg slipping over his as he pulls him a big more in that direction. Mmh.... 

To cave or not to cave. On one hand, it's hard to give up the ideas he's had in his head all day, but on the other, it would probably make Dave feel happy if he let him do his thing. 

While he's debating, his body is already doing the work for him, lips kissing Dave so light they're begging for him to kiss firmer, his free hand coming up to stroke Dave's shoulder but not through his hair just yet, his eyelids lowering to something more relaxed, entranced. 

A knuckle on his chin, lips pressing more firmly against him. Ow. A shudder runs down his spine, body locking a little from the resulting small, sharp pang of arousal. 

Dirk gives Dave an inaudible little sigh, making up his mind. He slips into Dave's lap, looking behind him to give Karkat a wary look; but nah, they're getting to a plot-heavy part, and Karkat's sucked in. 

That's good. Fuck yeah. 

He looks down to Dave, lowering himself so he's sitting on his knees, a little gingerly leaning his weight on Dave's thighs, though mostly on his knees and lower legs. 

Not deterred at all by the slightly awkward angle, he slips his tongue out to lick between their mouths, licking both their lips as his hooded gaze meets Dave's. 

Got your way, lil Davey. A 12 hour make-out-and-heavy-petting-session is a go.

The blanket slides off Dave’s lap as Dirk slides into it, but that’s fine. He’s more than sure that they’ll be able to keep themselves warm, just like this.

_ Good. _ So good. Dirk is so good. 

Dave kisses him just a little deeper to show him just how much he appreciates him. Can’t get too carried away just yet, though. Dave is the expert at taking things slow, and he’s thinking of the long game; if their lips get too raw too early on, it won’t be any fun to kiss anymore.

He’s got both hands on Dirk’s back now, pushed up under his clothes. Touching, feeling, thumbing the dips at the base of his spin, and up again. Slowly, oh so slowly. Warm like sunbathed honey and just… nice.

He swirls his tongue with Dirk’s, lets Dirk have whatever he wants for a few minutes. He takes the back seat, for now, being kissed instead of leading. A decision he regrets when Dirk’s fingers slip through his hair. Not fair,  _ not fair, _ his entire body arches into Dirk with the soft little tug he receives.

He cracks his eyes open to smolder at Dirk, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make a sound. The look he gives Dirk is just  _ daring _ him to keep going. To see what happens if he does. Dave has been working on his restraint with this particular weakness, and he thinks he’s doing an okay job. Even if it still makes his cock jump, the fact that he says quiet should be enough to scare Dirk.

Dirk is not going to win this game.

Dave leans in to ghost his lips over Dirk’s throat again. He presses soft little kisses, nuzzles with his nose, into clean, unmarked flesh. If Dirk wants more, he’s going to have to prove that he can behave himself.

And it’s amazing, really, that he knows that Dirk knows what he’s thinking. What every single touch means, without having to say a word of it out loud. It’s amazing, too, that Dirk has managed to make it this far without making some kind of smart assed comment or laying on some of his classic Dirty Talk. He’s probably struggling to keep it all in, which is both perfect and hilarious.

_ What, Dirk, you don’t want Karkat to see you like this? Tiger got your tongue? _

Dave slides both hands back down Dirk’s body, to round the curve of his ass and squeeze. He noses up under Dirk’s jaw, back, beneath his ear. He sighs pleasantly, hot against Dirk’s ear, letting Dirk know exactly how cute he is and how much he wants him.

Hell yeah, Dave is  _ wanting _ some of this. It's still slow, enough that it feels like small eternities between each shift between them. Calloused but gentle hands are on his back, soothing at soft, marred skin. 

Dave gives into it so easily. Leans back against the couch, letting him dip into his mouth and swirl their tongues together, letting him scootch just a  _ little _ bit closer, his knees digging into the back of the couch. One hand goes to Dave's chin to gently tip it up (repayment), holding Dave in that position, the other hand raking through his hair in that way he knows Dave  _ loves.  _

Dirk does it again, only because he loves feeling Dave melt under him. 

Which he... Doesn't? 

Uhhh. There must be some mistake here. Dirk slits his eyes open again, a smirk on his lips; Dave is probably barely holding on, maybe holding his breath-..

The have gaze meeting his is unexpected. That gaze tells him  _ game on. _ It makes his own eyes widen a little; when the  _ fuck _ did Dave learn how to control his Pavlov-reaction?? Did he  _ practice?  _

Fuck, that's a little cute, though. 

Dirk opens his mouth to tell him that. To murmur into Dave's ear how sweet he is, how hard he works for dumb things when Dirk already has a million plans he could set to work instead. He knows he's aroused, can feel it pretty clearly. 

So why does it feel like he's not winning this..? 

Just to spite Dave, he cards his fingers through beautiful silken locks again, knees twitching together a millisecond as Dave--  _ doesn't _ attack his neck. He checks a little breath out of annoyance, rubbing his lips together uselessly and glancing over to Karkat without turning his head.

He can  _ feel _ mocking words attached to the soft,  _ too soft _ touches he's getting, the dry little kisses that leaves him aching for  _ more. _ Firm hands smoothes and grabs hold of his ass, and he closes his eyes mournfully. 

It feels so damn  _ nice. _

He keeps on fighting a little; tries to nudge up Dave's chin again so they can kiss, rubs his hand slowly up and down the center of Dave's chest, continues stroking at Dave's hair, excruciatingly slow, so slow he doesn't feel it's actually effective. 

A thumb rubs crossly against the soft space between Dave's ear and jaw, a half-hearted warning that basically reeks of 'this displeases me, cease now', but it's too gentle to be taken seriously, and Dirk knows that. 

With words, Dirk could have coaxed this to be in his favour, get Dave all soft and pliant and pleading, desperate to go further but embarrassed about Karkat catching them. But without the words, he's left with no way to twist his body's reaction to suit his narrative. 

His body is too honest, at least according to himself. 

All this doesn't last longer than maybe a minute, though his mind runs at the speed of light to see the benefits and disadvantages of the situation. It all comes down to- he doesn't want to fight Dave. Doesn't want to challenge him. Not even when it's not serious, like this. 

He just wants Dave to feel good, and he wants to feel good also. 

So, though poutingly, he slowly slips his hand out of Dave's hair, snaking his hands down to rub at Dave's pecs, hooded gaze asking brattily, 

_ Well, Davey..? What did you have in mind, then...? _

When Dirk gives up on playing with his hair, Dave is actually a little shocked. He  _ liked _ it still, even if he wasn’t a sobbing mess over it, and Dirk didn’t have to stop, but… the implication is thrilling. That Dirk is 100% willing to play along with whatever game Dave has planned, that he’s just going to let it happen…

Good.

Goddamn, this is going to be so fucking satisfying.

He picks his head up again, to give Dirk another kiss. A  _ ’thank you, you’re so good, I’m going to make you feel so fucking good, I promise.’ _

He doesn’t stop, peppering Dirk with kisses all over again, like they’re back to square one. This time, though, he’s still got his hands on Dirk’s ass, and he slides one inward until he stroking a finger over Dirk’s hole through his boxers. He swipes his tongue across Dirk’s lip, rubs his finger, builds a slow rhythm of back and forth.

They’re barely a half hour into the movie.

Karkat is still silent beside them.

Several minutes of this, and Dave finally stops his teasing to reach behind himself. Dirk always seems to have lube stashed in the most convenient places and-- perfect. There between the cushions, Dave finds a little bottle, and he grins triumphantly into their continued kisses. 

Always prepared, he bets Dirk’s had no idea he was preparing for his own annihilation.

Carefully, he tugs Dirk’s boxers down around the curve of his ass, making sure his dick stays properly tucked away. They don’t need it, yet.

He squeezes the lube into his hand, and it’s  _ cold, _ jesus. He can’t see as he works it between his fingers behind Dirk’s back, and it gets a little sloppy. He feels it drip onto his own thighs, and it kicks up another hot wave of arousal in him.

Sloppy, just like Dirk is going to be.

A little consoled by Dave's reassuring kiss, Dirk lets his shoulders rest a little easier. It seems like Dave has some kind of plan, and it's always interesting to see how his lil dude's mind works. 

Well. Not so little anymore. Only reason they're not at eye-level or less is ‘cause he's on top of Dave, and not putting very much weight on him either. Dave's gotten ... Well. He doesn't know where Dave got his 'buff-muscle-genes', but Dirk is a little envious. He's simply more firmly built than Dirk, and that's all there is to say on the matter. 

Blinking his thoughts away, he gets blissfully lost in their kiss again, a warm little smile peeking out after a while- he wouldn't mind if this is how they're spending three movies' time. It'll leave them chapped for days, but he's pretty sure that's not going to stop them. 

"-...." When Dirk suddenly feels a finger slipping between his cheeks, he pushes their lips together a little harder on accident- oh, so-..

He meets Dave's hungry gaze, giving Karkat another quick glance, then almost-hesitatingly falls back into that easy rhythm Dave has going; it's not like Dave hasn't fucked him before, and Dave is notoriously good with hands. Lately though, when Dave's been in these kind of moods, Dirk has been starting to realize that he really lets Dave get away with too much. It's ridiculous. 

Then again, how much does Dave think he'll get away with when Karkat's there a couple feet away. And Dirk has never been  _ overly _ vocal in bed, with the exception of dirty talk. So he's not going to make a fool out of himself. 

Honestly, you'd think Dave knew him better.

\- ugh. He wants to say it out loud. But Karkat looking over right now would ruin the fun in a heartbeat. 

It feels like forever and a second, and then Dave's finger against his clothed hole is gone. Rummaging. Ah, he found the lube. Clever dude. Clever  _ him _ for placing it there honestly, but he'll give Dave a share of the credit. 

When Dave pulls his boxers down just enough to expose his ass, he has the decency to blush. Here he is, ass out on Dave's lap while their boyfriend watches Lord of the Rings. It's not even a sexy movie. 

Well, except for Gandalf.

When a finger slips in, he can feel the little moan that's resting high in his chest. The lube is cold, which makes him break out into goosebumps, but his ass is warm, and it doesn't take long for the lube to get the memo. 

Hands go down to slip under Dave's tank-top, and he starts playing innocently with his nipples, brushing soft, fleeting kisses at Dave's cheeks. He wants another finger in, a single one is so lonely... 

He leans in to Dave's ear, sighing out slowly, letting Dave hear the lustful little shudder that wracks it. Then he kisses the lobe, nibbling at it. 

Dave needs to stop being a tease.

A finger is more like, a fingertip. Dave only pushes up to the first knuckle, pops it against the rim. In again, pop, a terrible little tease. It really serves no purpose, other than to get Dirk worked up. A little taste, to make him squirm and push him to  _ ask _ for more.

But Dave is nice. He knows that Dirk can’t ask, so soon enough, he’s pushing further in. He gets to the second knuckle, in, out, an easy thrust of his finger.

He sits back against the couch, to let Dirk do whatever it is he wants to do. It’s nice, the thumbs over his nipples, the kisses in his neck. Little bites and tugs, he loves every second of it. Loves Dirk.

Sigh.

Dirk is more than ready for a second finger by the time Dave finally presses it in. It goes in easily alongside the first, slicked with lube and all too good. His thumb, pinkie, and pointer push gently into Dirk’s cheeks, spreading him, keeping him open as he slowly strokes along Dirk’s inner walls.

His free hand slides up Dirk’s back, skin on skin, warm, caressing. Even as Dirk squirms and glares at him, though, he keeps going at his own pace. He wonders if Dirk has caught onto what he’s doing yet.

A good ten minutes have passed before he even teases at a third finger. He puts pressure against the rim, without letting it slip inside. He kisses at Dirk’s temple, a sweet gesture, an apology of sorts. He’s had his slow sessions with Dirk, sure, but nothing quite to this extent. And maybe the first time they do it shouldn’t be in front of Karkat.

But that makes it exciting, doesn’t it? Karkat’s seen it all before. He’s been on the receiving end of the same treatment more times than they could ever count. But has he ever seen Dirk like this? Does he  _ want _ to see Dirk like this? Well, he probably won’t; he’s too engrossed in the movie. He’s not even doing his classic running commentary, since he’s never seen it before.

Which is all well and good. Dave kind of wants to keep this for himself, anyway. He likes that he’s the only one who gets to have Dirk like this.

He slips the third finger in starts all over again. Thrust. Stroke. Stretch. Rub. The angle isn’t great for prostate stimulation, but Dave hasn’t really been aiming for that yet.

At this point, maybe Dirk deserves it, though. He’s been so good, afterall.

So Dave turns his wrist, tucks his arm under Dirk’s thigh enough to get it right. Pushes his fingers in deeper. Strokes gently.

He kisses beside Dirk’s eye again, and Dirk’s skin is  _ hot. _ It’s just starting to dampen with sweat, and Dave kisses again and again, soothing, until he finds Dirk’s lips again.

Dirk is  _ aching. _

Dave is going way too slow, and it is driving him up the wall. None of his little hints, the almost not-there ruts against Dave, the stern, meaningful eye contact, the way Dirk pinched his nipple a little in need for things to speed up a little- nothing is catching on. 

Dave really likes taking his time during sex, at least in a situation like this. Where he can open Dirk up as if to see what's inside. 

To let Dave know how he feels about his plan, he nuzzles up against Dave's neck and starts suckling. He has to stay quiet, so there can't be any of the lewd slurping-noises he likes making usually, but as he sucks the skin between his teeth and worries at the flesh, he's sure Dave is getting the message. 

The second finger in him feels divine, and he gives a slow, meticulous swallow, breathing out his nose. Dave holds him open, as if for the imaginary person behind him to get a good look at how greedy his hole is. 

That eternity passes with Dirk going harder at his revenge-hickeys, his thumbs rubbing firmly over Dave's nipples in circular movents. Dirk meets Dave's gaze again, giving him a softer smooch, pleading. Another finger... 

He still has to wait. The energy he's building from not being able to say what he wants and not being able to move as quick as he wants; stuck here, in the most delicious way. His cock is fully hard, feeling mighty neglected. 

Dirk starts following Dave's movements, doing the opposite in hopes of getting him riled up. It's such little rocks of his body that would probably just look like squirming if his ass wasn't out for everyone to see.

When the third finger is pressing against him, he finds solace in the kiss, nodding a frantic couple of nods, pushing their chests together, licking his lips free from saliva when they part. It's warm and tight inside Dirk, but with Dave being so extremely gentle, the third one slipping in is just a gentle stretch of muscle, his hole eagerly swallowing up another finger, letting Dave explore him from the inside out. 

Then he's scrunching his brows up and holding onto his vocal chords mighty fiercely because  _ god, _ Dave has decided he wants to massage at his prostate- 

It's such a different situation, cause Dirk can't shake off the energy. Can't snark away the way his thighs are shaking gently with the strain of not clamping Dave between them. 

Dirk can already feel the back of his singlet slowly getting damp. Between the two of them, the heat could melt a volcano. 

The only thing that keeps him from groaning and having Karkat whip around to take in the fact that the two of them are hitting it on, is that Dave is gently smothering whatever noise it is Dirk is making. 

He breathes it so softly into Dave's ear he's not sure even  _ he _ understands it, 

"-- Davey-...." 

The pace is so torturously slow, it's breaking him down. He can't even do much, so focused on the way those fingers map out his insides so intimately, massaging him in there like he needs it after all that prep. 

It slowly dawns on him; how will Dave be able to fuck him raw on his fingers if they can't make noise..? 

The answer is, they won't make noise.... Dave- Dave definitely is sneaky, he'll just keep  _ going _ like this, won't he..? 

Dirk leans back, catching his gaze, looking just a smidgeon worried. He's not sure how to feel. He wants more so badly. He tries conveying that to Dave, hoping he'll reconsider. Maybe hurry over to his room, fuck like rabbits... 

Going slow is  _ not _ Dirk's fortè...

The breath of his name makes Dave’s heart leap up into his throat. He meets Dirk’s eyes, sees the apprehension there, and all he does is smile in return. It’s a reassuring smile, at least it’s meant to be, but he’s not sure if that’s how Dirk takes it. He’s pretty sure that Dirk has caught on by now, and it’s probably dawning on him that this isn’t going to end any time soon. 

It makes Dave’s stomach do a flip, to realize that Dirk could stop him if he wanted to, but he’s  _ not. _ To know how much Dirk trusts him, to know that Dirk would let him get away with just about anything, it’s… it makes his heart race and it makes him want to kiss Dirk again, so he does.

It’s so  _ indulgent _ for him to be here like this with Dirk. He loves to see his brother happy, blissed out, maskless. He had had pale sex with Karkat a couple of times, before they started dating, but it was never anything like this. Probably because he was struggling with red feelings for Karkat… Made it complicated and slightly uncomfortable. But he doesn’t have that problem with Dirk. They’ve both been open and honest about their wants and needs from the very beginning.

And what Dave wants more than anything in this moment is to feel Dirk melt between his fingers. Or, more accurately,  _ around _ them.

So, he keeps at his work. Three fingers. In, out, in, out, stretch, rub,  _ slow. _ The leisurely pace is more than just to pleasure (torture) Dirk, it’s also to save his own wrist. His fingers are starting to ache just a little bit, and he might need to switch tactics soon. Or, switch hands. 

His dick aches, too. Painfully hard and untouched, since Dirk has been in his lap. He’s surprised that Dirk hasn’t tried to retaliate with it yet, stroke at it and try to rile him up, get him to go faster, egg him into finally fucking him. He knows that Dirk isn’t used to being treated this way, it’s probably killing him. Dave hopes in a good way, though…

The way Dirk’s thighs tremble tells him that it’s probably in a good way.

Dave ends up having to apply a little more lube at some point, and the way it slicks easily up inside Dirk is so lewd and so delicious, Dave can’t help biting down where he’s kissing at Dirk’s neck. It’s a little ridiculous, how good it can feel for just his fingers to be inside Dirk, but it’s so  _ rewarding. _ Dirk is so responsive, even without his mouth running, and Dave’s not sure how much longer he’s going to be able to resist getting his dick in there.

He sinks his teeth in pretty hard without meaning to (he got a little excited there) and eases off into some softer nips, and then sucks another mark into the spot. He rolls his tongue over flesh between teeth, stroking Dirk’s prostate again at the same time. 

He cracks his eyes open to glance up at the movie while he works into the hickey, and realizes they’re only about an hour into this marathon. 

\--an  _ hour, _ wow, okay, he’s actually pretty impressed that Dirk has been so good this whole time. Again, he thinks that Dirk could tap out at any time if he wanted to, but he  _ hasn’t. _ He deserves a treat for all this good behaviour.

He picks his head up again to kiss Dirk, trying to spell into it just how much he appreciates him, how well he’s doing, how much he loves every second of this. How much he loves  _ Dirk. _

Eventually, he breaks and tilts to one side, the opposite side from Karkat, to whisper softly,  _ oh so softly, _ in his brother’s ear. “You wanna sit on my cock?”

Dirk's cheeks burn harder. Dave is looking at him like he hung up the stars, just for letting him finger him. If he cuts out the bullshit, it's Dave pleasuring him- honestly it should be Dirk giving Dave that look. 

Fingers pump in and out of him in that organic, fluent way that machines can't replicate. A good rhythm, but not machine preciseness; a small falter here and there, a slight twisting, the way fingers bend a little and the pads of the fingers rub independently from the main motion. 

Dirk gets lost in it, the careful way Dave is ready to pull him apart. Little by little his breath starts to deepen, enough that it's not his normal resting pattern. He has to take extra deep breaths as well, just so he won't start breathing hard enough for Karkat to check on them. Has to keep it steady. He starts going into himself, focusing deeply on keeping that calm, like in a trance. 

Dave adds more lube, and the resulting fresh slickness has him stop his breathing for a moment. Fuck-... So g- "-- ... hmn." A normal kissing sound, right? Fists clench on the material of Dave's top as teeth sinks into his neck, his eyes fluttering shut. Fuck. Fuuuuck. 

It's not a quick bite either; Dave sinks his teeth down until Dirk can feel the pain of a muscle being squished together, then a little deeper than that. Dirk wants to  _ thrash, _ and especially so when Dave decides it's the perfect moment to nail his prostate again.

His breath is coming out in shallow, soft things, obviously working on not letting anything slip. When he ducks his head, he sees a long string of drool spilling from his lips and down between them, and he bites down on his lower lip-  _ shit, _ he doesn't know how long he can keep  _ doing _ this; it feels like Dave has been torturing him like this for hours already. 

Starting to get hazy around the edges, he doesn't quite see Dave kissing him until their lips are meeting, wetly so. Breathes out hard from his nose, mourning the loss when Dave pulls away. 

_ You wanna sit on my cock? _

Dave asks him-  _ ugh, _ he asks him, he knows it's embarrassing for him to admit, to say, when he's being good like this (Dave murmuring about how good he's being for him, how perfect he is, how this is all he ever wanted on repeat in his head). 

Luckily, he doesn't actually have to say anything. He just nods, not even that disappointed when he realizes he could have won Dave over if he focused on his dick. 

Dirk is being good right now, after all. 

Maybe  _ not _ so careful now, he sits up on his knees slowly, mouth open in an 'o' as his ass tightens around Dave's fingers. He licks his lips, hands going to Dave's shoulders, He'd help Dave out of his boxers, but he'd make too many big movements. They have to be sneaky. 

Because he's maybe not one hundred percent a good boy still, he smoothes his flat palm over Dave's hair, appreciative. Dave is working hard for him, has to be  _ dying _ to get some of the ass on dick action. 

He hopes the smouldering gaze he's sending Dave tells all that to him and more.

The little nod Dirk gives him speaks volumes where words never could, and Dave thrills to know know that  _ he _ made Dirk look this way. He’s about to dive back in for another deep, wet, penetrative kiss to tell Dirk how much he loves him, but then Dirk is sitting up on his knees.

Dave is both shocked and impressed by the movement. Dirk really hasn’t been putting that much weight in Dave’s lap, considering how long they’ve been sitting here, considering how Dave has been  _ fingering him for an hour, _ and Dirk’s thighs probably  _ hurt. _ Kudos to him, for being a fucking champ. Dave will kiss his thighs later, when he inevitably can’t walk on his own.

That’ll be cute, huh.

He’s interrupted from thinking about how cute Dirk is by a hand in his hair, and  _ oh, _ so we are playing that game again, hm? He can’t help but read it like a challenge, like Dirk is trying to get back at him for everything he’s been through this far, and two can play at that game.

Dave looks up, raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. They’re being  _ quiet, _ why would he say something?

Silently, he moves the hand petting Dirk’s back to Dirk’s front, where he gathers the bunched up fabric of Dirk’s tank and puts it in Dirk’s hand. The request is obvious:  _ ’hold this for me,’ _ and when Dirk takes it, Dave lets his hand come back down to settle on Dirk’s ass. He squeezes at the cheek, pulling at it to spread Dirk open while he still continues to leisurely finger him.

And then, because he’s still not going to lose this game, he tugs Dirk’s entire body forward. He comes face to face with Dirk’s now bare chest, and he doesn’t waste a second closing his lips around a nipple.. He rolls his tongue over it, slow and sweet, before backing off and blowing softly against it. 

It’s hard in seconds, which is perfect. He flicks it with his tongue again, before catching it between his teeth and rolling it gently. And then… less gently. And then he’s sealing his lips around it again and  _ sucking. _ His fingers never stop moving inside.

_ I really just let him do whatever the fuck he wants. Jesus Christ... _

Dirk doesn't feel particularly cocky when Dave just raises a brow up at him; he really must have practiced at keeping down his reaction when they're an hour in and he still manages to stay ...  _ not _ a puddle when Dirk is playing with his hair like it's everyone's business. 

He holds the bunched up tanktop up somewhat awkwardly when Dave pushes it in his hands, and Dirk is sure it's mostly just to gaze at his perfect body. 

Which is a testament to how fingered out of his mind he already is. He can usually rub more than two brain cells together. 

He's pulled forward, and his breath hitches a little, and then there's something warm on his nipple, something even hotter rubbing against it. It's like a hit of something good spreading down to his already full-up pool of arousal, and this shit  _ can't _ go on like this. 

Mostly to keep his hands free, but also to muffle his breath some, the stuffs the bunched up tanktop in his mouth to hold it up, then sinks both hands into Dave's scalp, raking his fingers through, scratching his scalp with his nails oh-so gently. 

Dave  _ bites down, _ and honestly, it's a fucking miracle he's been able to hold on for so long. 

Dirk  _ moans.  _

Not a manly, deep grunt that might happen when someone bites down on your nipple. Not even and aborted little 'ah'. 

It's nasal, high-pitched, and some cloth in his mouth does pretty much nothing to disguise it.  _ "Nnnnhhh...." _ he squeezes his eyes shut, kind of forgetting why they're being quiet for a moment, a couple more complaining whimpers following it; the fingers in him is so  _ good, _ and Dave  _ said _ he'd get his dick in him now; so what is this shit??

The noise Dirk makes catches Karkat’s attention.

Not because he hasn’t  _ heard _ anything else they’ve been doing, he’s not fucking deaf. He just assumed they’d been kissing this whole time, it’s not like he felt the need to check on them. God fucking knows that  _ he’s _ made out with Dave for longer periods of time, so he wouldn’t put it past them, but that noise.

That noise. Is not a noise that Dirk usually makes. Not when Karkat is kissing him. Not when Karkat is touching him. Not when Karkat is having sex with him. What in the hell is Dave  _ doing to him? _

He’s almost afraid to look. And that’s only partly because he doesn’t want to miss what’s happening on screen.

He looks anyway, and what he sees makes his heart sink into his stomach and explode into butterflies. He feels his face color a deep shade of red as he takes in the picture.

Dirk up on his knees, naked from the chest down with his own shirt stuffed into his mouth. His hands fisted into Dave’s hair, in what has to be a painful pull. Dave holding Dirk’s body close, going to fucking town with his mouth on Dirk’s chest. His hands groped to Dirk’s ass, and he can’t see it, but he  _ knows _ well enough that Dave’s fingers are definitely tucked up into Dirk’s ass.

He rakes his eyes over the two of them, from top to bottom, and then back up again, to see Dirk’s face absolutely twisted in one of the most wracked expressions he’s ever seen him wear. 

It’s… it’s fucking graphic.

And it makes him feel too many things, all at once. 

It makes him feel a little twisted up, to see his spade in such a compromising position. Not that Dirk isn’t vulnerable with him these days, but this is  _ raw. _

It makes him miss Dave. It makes the empty ache he’s been feeling even more terrible. The diamond shaped hole in his heart throbs, and holy fucking shit, why is he feeling like this all of a sudden?? It’s not like he’s never seen them get pale before.

...Well, he’s never actually seen them having sex before. But that’s beside the point. It usually makes him  _ happy _ to see them together.

This is just… so…  _ intimate. _

It’s a lot.

He can’t tear his eyes away. He’s definitely missed what’s happening in the movie at this point.

And it’s now that Dave decides to move. He circles Dirk’s nipple once more with the tip of his tongue, then bites down on the muscle of his pectoral. He happens to look up and

their eyes meet

and Karkat’s eyes snap back to the television screen faster than even his panic can catch up with him. He’s holding his fucking breath, his entire body is tense.

Why does he feel like he’s the one that’s been caught??

“Aw, Dirk,” Dave says, still soft, still sweet, but definitely not a whisper. The responsive yank to his hair he gets makes him grunt out loud, his eyes flutter, but all in all, he keeps it together. “You have an audience...” he coos.

Somehow, being seen makes Dave even fucking hottier than he already was. His cock jumps where it’s still tucked away in his boxers and he can’t  _ wait _ to finally get it inside Dirk. Is Karkat going to watch him do it?

Hot. That’s so fucking hot.

Once the barrier is breached, he finds he actually can't physically keep the noises completely at bay. They seep into the cloth in his mouth, small huffs and aborted little noises as Dave continues playing him like a god damned instrument. 

Dirk jumps a little as Dave talks, not whispers, at him. He's still so woozy and a little fuck-drunk, but it only takes a moment for that to sink in- looks over to Karkat. He's watching the TV. 

For a moment, he thinks Dave was joking, but then he sees how flustered he is- how tense he's gotten, his eyes a little wide. 

Humiliation curls in his gut, but not in the way he thought it would. It feeds on how under Dave's thumb he is right now; he's not going to demand Dave to stop. Having Karkat watching them is.... Fuck, it's going to be hot. God damnit. He feels too good, he's been worked up to a desperate frenzy. 

He'll beg for Dave to  _ pretty please _ continue if he thinks about stopping, though he's pretty sure Dave is still game. 

He really does just love attention. 

"-.... fuck.." his voice cracks, still very soft. He lets go of Dave's hair, just to slide his hands through it again. 

.... 

His lower legs are prickling something fierce. 

"Davey-.." the name is muffled by the shirt. He slides one of his hands down Dave's chest and towards his crotch demonstratively before moving it back up again, looking down at him with drawn together eyebrows. 

"... you said."  _ I want it, please, I need it in me _ yesterday,  _ I need something bigger. _

Knowing that Karkat's listening he doesn't want to be... quite as embarrassing as he usually is with Dave, but this is a weird mix-mash where he's fingered so stupid he just wants to continue being good for Dave. 

And being good for Dave often means being like this. It's what is most important right now. Anything to get Dave to fuck him, at this point.

“I know, sugar cube…” Dave says, all southern sweet and reassuring, and  _ damn _ it feels good to say that out loud. He lets go of Dirk’s ass to reach up and stroke a thumb across his cheek, and he tilts his own heat all the way up to give Dirk a kiss.

Karkat is vibrating with anxious energy. Now that he knows what’s going on, he can’t  _ not _ look. Even if his initial response was hurt, he still loves both of them, and he still loves to see them feel good, and okay he’s looking again, and jesus christ, they look do good together.

He watches as Dave kisses Dirk back into being quiet. Watches Dave’s hand travel all the way down Dirk’s body, tapering off at the thigh, into his own lap to pull his dick out. He watches both Dave’s hands move, listens to Dirk whine between them as his ass is left empty-- how long exactly has Dave been fingering him? A few minutes? During the entire movie?  _ How much of this has he missed? _

Both Dave’s hands move, one to Dirk’s hips to help guide him down, and the other to his own cock to keep it steady. Dirk’s overstretched hole sinks easily around Dave’s cock, and Karkat’s eyes widen at the way he  _ collapses _ into it.

He’s never seen Dirk this weak before.

Dave’s got one hand on Dirk’s hip now, and the other rubbing slow circles into his back. When he speaks, it’s a whisper again, but not a whisper that Karkat can’t hear. “Can you be quiet for me again, hm? Karkat’s still trying to watch the movie, and we don’t want to be rude…”

He noses under Dirk’s chin,nudges him into turning his jaw, and then he makes eye contact with Karkat again. 

Karkat catches his breath again, but he doesn’t look away this time. He shifts his eyes from Dave's to Dirk's, like he thinks Dave excepts him to.

Dave whispers again, this time for only Dirk to hear. “Tell him you’re sorry. And that you’ll sit still until the movie is over.”

Preening at the nickname, Dirk sighs out in relief; ok, good.. Dave is still going to give it to him. 

His tanktop is soaked in his own drool, and it's sticking wetly to his stomach. He can't mind though, cause now Dave is kissing him again, and it's so easy to let that block out all the other things happening around him. 

Humiliation still coiling in his stomach and painting his face, neck and shoulders an impressive red. Karkat is watching him like this, picked apart and drowning in pleasure without a word being said. Voluntarily.

He whines and slurps into their kiss, messy from trying to  _ not _ while they were being quiet. So empty- noo, he didn't want them gone,  _ Dave- _

"A-aaahh...." It's something taken from a porno, the way he can't control how loud, whiny and  _ relieved _ the moan that rips out of him fills the otherwise almost silent room. Dave cock sinks into him like a dream, he's so opened up that he only feels the warm burn of delicious friction. His breath comes out shaky. 

Dave cock feels so good. It's much larger than his fingers, going in deep in a way fingers simply can't. He feels speared on it, and he makes a quick decision to move his legs so they're wrapped around Dave instead of cramping up on either side of Dave's hips- and, coincidentally, lets Dave's cock sink into him that much deeper. He can feel it all the way into his  _ stomach, _ he's sure of it. 

Dave whispers into his ear, and- 

And- ugh, fuck. Fuck, he has to be quiet again-?? He makes a bratty little 'mmmm....' but they both know he'll do what Dave tells him to. 

Dirk and Karkat's eyes meet, and Dirk's fucked out gaze clears a little, eyes widening as he hears what Dave wants him to say. 

_ To Karkat?? _

He rubs his lips together, eyes darting away to try to look at Dave, but he can't.

Hesitates, swallows. 

Relents.

"'msorry, tiger.." 

Wait what was that other thing? The ... The  _ whole movie? _

Surely he's joking. He's not gonna say no to him though. not even now. 

"... 'll sit still-... ...." Horrifyingly, tears are starting to prickle, and he blinks quickly, taking a small breath in. "'till the movie's over..."

Heat floods Karkat at the scene before him. He’s  _ horrified _ by it, in a way that’s actually mostly good. He can’t believe how broken down Dirk is, how easily he’s just…  _ taking it. _ His eyes are wet and he’s just… so pretty???

And Dave. Holy shit, he had no idea Dave had anything like this inside him. This is different from the slow and sweet way Dave fucks him-- at least, from the outside it is. The fact that Dave just  _ made _ Dirk look his  _ kismesis _ in the  _ eye _ and  _ apologize _ for being  _ noisy _ is--

Holy fucking shit.

He’s not sure if he’s supposed to respond or not. His mouth is suddenly so fucking dry and there’s a lump in his throat. He tries to swallow around it, and his voice cracks a little when he speaks up. “Uh… apology accepted.”

Dave grins so wide and so pleased, Karkat is sure he said the right thing. “You hear that, sugar cube? You did so well for me. For both of us,” Dave says, in that hushed, too sweet voice. He punctuates it with a kiss, and when he doesn’t stop, Karkat forces himself to look away again.

Looking at the movie again, Karkat has no idea what’s going on. He thinks that maybe he should rewind it, to find out what he missed. But does that make him complacent in Dirk’s torture right now? If he’s really going to just…  _ sit there, _ totally still, on Dave’s cock for the rest of the movie, wouldn’t rewinding the past few minutes only make it worse?

...does he care if he makes it worse?

… ...he rewinds it until he recognizes the scene, and then presses play again.

Dave either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because he’s too wrapped up in kissing Dirk again to show interest. He’s rubbing soft little circles into Dirk’s hips with his thumbs, holding him, comforting him. Dirk is taking his cock so well, after all, he deserves only the most luxurious of touches.

Saying those few chopped words almost had Dirk in tears, but he nods, the honeyed words of reward spilling on him in thick rivulets, washing away any bad feelings. 

Seeing Dave smile like that, knowing that he did well, that makes it worth it. He smiles a little shakily back when Dave turns his head back for a kiss, and he sinks into it gratefully. 

The hands on him feel so good, Dave's dick feels heavenly, thick and warm and twitching inside his wet hole, probably dripping with slick. His dumb brain tells him to start moving, get a better feel for how it forces his canal open, brushes against his prostate, but he remembers what Dave said. 

And he didn't correct him when he said it out loud. So he probably wasn't mistaken. 

He wants to move so bad. He wants to plead. He wants to pant into Dave's ear and ask him  _ pretty please with cherry on top _ to fuck him, to please let him ride him. Dirk's dick is so hard that it's twitching against Dave's stomach, and his sigh stutters into their kisses. 

He waits. He waits for so long, waits until he's almost forgotten how Dave feels in him, where he's desensitised to it unless he moves, and even when that happens, he keeps waiting. Keeps waiting for Dave to continue picking him apart. 

But they just keep kissing, and Dave keeps stroking his back, and Karkat continues watching the movie. 

Dirk hesitatingly brings a hand under Dave's top, smoothing it and down his side, the other one rubbing his neck possessively. He needs to do  _ something, _ he needs to provide  _ something _ to this- he's losing himself in the feeling of being held here like this with Dave, and it's starting to scare him how  _ easy _ he's being. 

He gives a small, dirty grind with his hips, barely checking a moan. His cock weeps.

Honestly, it’s hard for Dave to keep himself still. Dirk’s vocal and facial reactions are enough to get him worked up on their own, and their kisses are so sweet and sloppy and delicious, and Dirk had been playing with his hair, and Dirk is so cute like this, and his ass fits like a goddamn dream around Dave’s cock, and…

And Karkat caught them, and that is just so fucking hot.

And every little shift Dirk makes makes his cock twitch, and Dirk is wrapped  _ so well _ around him, legs snug around his waist, settled perfectly in his lap. Wandering hands, but  _ behaved _ hands, not doing anything Dave hasn’t said is okay, not even trying to touch himself…

The melted, fuck drunk expression on Dirk’s face is what keeps Dave pulled together, though. To see how much he fucking loves his, how totally lost he is. Dave would do anything for him, literally fucking anything, and if letting him sit on his dick for a few hours is what it takes to push him here, Dave will put off his own orgasm as long as it takes.

So when Dirk moves again, and  _ intentional _ move, a sexy little rock of his hips, it takes every scrap of willpower Dave has not to return the favor. He sees himself grabbing Dirk by the hips and finally fucking up into him, making him spill those sweet little noises for him, Dirk clinging to him, crying, fucking him until he’s dumbed back down to speechlessness;

But he doesn’t do it.

His hands slow where they had been stroking along the insides of Dirk’s thighs, and he looks up to meet Dirk’s eye. It’s a stern look, a warning. Or maybe it’s another challenge. If Dirk can’t keep sitting still on his own, maybe Dave needs to distract him from the cock in his ass.

He wonders briefly if Karkat would help him.

He glances over to see Karkat huddled up with his knees to his chest. Knuckles pressed to his mouth. Flushed and very pointedly looking at the TV. He wonders if that’s a reaction to the movie, or to  _ them. _ He wonders how often Karkat’s been checking them out, if he likes what he sees, if he would want to get in on it when the movie is over.

He has no idea that Karkat’s been fighting with himself the entire time. Torn between being happy for them, loving them, turned on over it, pining, upset, wishing he still had a diamond he could be so open with. How would Dave know any of that if Karkat doesn’t say it?

Dave flicks his eyes back up to the movie to try and gauge how much longer until the next movie starts. Less than an hour? Forty five minutes or so? It’s hard to really remember, when he’s so focused on the boy in his lap.

Hands move up thighs, until they’re squeezing gently at Dirk’s ass. Pulling him apart, spreading him, somehow making it feel like his dick slips impossibly deeper. It makes him sigh quietly, close his eyes. He rubs at Dirk’s cheeks a little while longer, until he decides it’s time to move on. He feels up Dirk’s sides, his hips, his stomach, back up to his chest, where he cruelly thumbs over nipples once again.

He wonders if Dirk could cum like this? Would it be kinder for him to keep Dirk waiting, or let him cum now, only to continue to warm Dave’s cock until the movie’s over.

Decisions, decisions.

Whatever happens, happens, he guesses.

Of course, it's not gonna fly. Dirk pouts as Dave gives him a strict look, just  _ daring _ him to continue. He's not sure what would happen if he disobeyed, but his fried mind just whines that it doesn't like that strict look on Dave's face right now. 

It felt a  _ lot _ better when Dave looked proud of him. 

Dirk's brows draw up. Though the redness in his face has faded a little from sitting still for so long, he can feel it heat again under Dave's gaze. He ducks his head and presses his lips together until they form a thin line, his own hands stopping up. Looks into Dave's eyes through his lashes, having to lock his hips so he won't start squirming. 

If he's not good, Dave might stop this all together. And he won't be proud of him.

When hands pull him open, the dick in him sinking in just a tiny bit further, he opens his mouth and only barely manages to catch the little sound that was on its way out of his mouth. He's so sensitive, so worked up by all the waiting. His eyes widens and he clamps his hands down on Dave's neck and side, cause maybe Dave is gonna move, maybe he's gonna fuck him, let him feel that gorgeous dick slide out and then let him fall on his dick again-- 

A cruel tease. The hands move away to continue up his back and around to his stomach, his muscles jumping a little wherever Dave is smoothing over. He wants to bitch  _ so bad, _ wants to whine and rut and squeeze Dave hard between his thighs. He gives out a harsh, disappointed, slightly watery breath instead, obscenely loud between the two of them.

Again, he's taken aback when Dave's thumbs circles around his nipples, and this time he really can't stop the noise; he's  _ trying.  _

It's enough to break anyone.

"uh--..." He presses his lips together hard, biting his lower lip, "mmhn-  _ mm..." _ It still rushes out his nose unhindered, the mewling little moans that's choking inside his chest. He slaps the hand on Dave's neck over his own mouth and nose, his face reddening further at the guttural little 'ngh' sounds that throbs in his throat, unable to escape now. 

He stares down at Dave pleadingly, not even sure what he's pleading for- to continue or to stop? The flicks to his nipples sends a shot of electricity down to his cock, and he's been making a mess of Dave's stomach for about an hour. 

Dirk feels close to coming, and it shouldn't  _ really _ be possible from... from just  _ this. _ Even though it's already too much. 

He removes his hand, and the harsh breath he take in sounds like the kind of breath you take before you yell, or moan, or  _ come. _

Teeth are gritted instead. Then a harsh breath out. He feels lightheaded. 

Careful to be quiet, he leans forward so he can whisper into Dave's ear, his breath scorching hot, his skin damp. 

"--please Davey-.. please-.. mm- ...." He was going to say something?? But? "D--davey- uhhnm..." He can't remember. He slumps his forehead on Dave's shoulder, hiding his face and bringing his own tank up to his mouth to stifle the sound his breath makes.

His ass is clenching and unclenching wantonly, only driving him further up that wall- ahh... He can use that. 

He squeezes down, relaxes. Squeeeeze.... Relax. It feels so good his eyes cross. Squeeeze. It's like he's milking Dave, encouraging him to move against that clench, it feels like he's sucking Dave in with it. 

Like this he might actually come.

Dave can’t say he’s not expecting it when Dirk finally breaks.

And he breaks  _ beautifully. _

All whining moans and begging and flexing fingers and trembling muscles. He can hear Dirk trying to muffle his sounds again and being completely unable to keep it in anymore, and Dirk has never been hotter.

To top it all off, Dirk is still being so good… Not moving his hips, even if he’s clenching down over and over like he’s trying to milk Dave’s cock. Dave can forgive that easily enough, blame it on involuntary reactions and let Dirk have it. Maybe he can let Dirk have anything he wants now, he’s been so perfect, how could Dave say no?

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers back. He kisses at Dirk’s ear kindly while his fingers continue to move over nipples. He technically didn’t tell Dirk not to cum, just not to move or make a noise. 

As if he knows that it’ll push Dirk over the edge, he keeps murmuring sweet things in Dirk’s ear, kissing it between praises, “You’re so pretty like this. You sound so sweet. You’ve been so good. You’re perfect, sugar cube. Feel so good around me. So tempting to fuck you, you’re so sexy. So good.”

Karkat had finally managed to stop looking at them about halfway through the movie. They weren’t really… moving or doing anything, and he finally relaxed enough to focus wholly on the movie again.

His ears perk up to the sound of Dirk’s begging, though. He can’t hear what he’s saying, but the sound of it is unmistakable. Pathetic, needy, broken little pleas. He looks again to see Dirk doubled over with his shirt stuffed in his mouth again. Dave touching him, whispering to him softly. Shaking and desperate and  _ wow. _ He’s only seen Dirk anywhere close to this submissive when he was being sounded, and even then, this seems like it’s on a whole other level. Dave isn’t even thrusting into him, just rubbing at his chest.

Arousal sparks up in him, and for the first time today, it actually starts to pull him out of his own head. For a moment, he forgets his own heartache, and all he wants is to see more.

Does dave  _ always _ push Dirk like this?

It gives Karkat a twisted sense of satisfaction to see Dirk in this position, when Dirk is always making him the exact same way.

They don’t seem to notice he’s watching, which makes him feel a unique type of squirmy. Dave at least has noticed him every time up until now, but Dave is 100% focused on Dirk at the moment, and it almost feels like something Karkat shouldn’t be seeing. Something private and intimate and so very steamy. He has to shift in his seat because fuck, he’s gonna start leaking if he keeps watching.

Dave really doesn't notice though, as he keeps whispering hotly in Dirk’s ear. Relentlessly fingering over his nipples and keeping his hips still.

The words in Dirk's ears are honeysweet and sticky, dripping in so far it affects his  _ brain.  _

He's pretty... He's been so good, so sexy.. It warms him,  _ burns _ him, cause it's not really true is it? But it has to be true, if Dave says it is. He nuzzles into Dave's shoulder, and his moan is more of a sob, muffled and wet and  _ desperate, _ his arms coming up to wrap around Dave's neck. 

A part of him feels like a fucking child, so ready for praise, so eager to please, so fucking vulnerable to Dave's words. With every push of Dave's thumbs over his nipples, with every warm breath into his ear he hunches up a little, his hole clenching, his mind blanking dangerously. 

He's going to come. 

Dirk tries preventing it, tries stopping the squeezing rhythm he's started, tries pulling back a little from Dave's torture on his nipples. 

_ "--aahhdavey, _ nohh-" hot tears spills over his cheeks, his nipples accidentally tugged. He can't  _ stop, _ his body is going on instinct, clamping down, and when he hunches again Dave's cock rubs  _ just right, _ rubbing firmly against his prostate, and he  _ squeezes _ again, convulses around his cock, givin off another desperate little sob-

Knowing he's making sound when he shouldn't,  _ coming _ when he shouldn't--

It all mixes in his head into a frenzy, and it all becomes too much; with a mewl, white dribbles out of his cock, only managing so much momentum and volume when he's been leaking for so long.

His whole body seizes up, twitching hard, like aborted little thrusts with his hips but with his whole body, the slight friction resulting from it so delicious feels another little pang of fear in him. 

Feels so good. Feels so good cause he was  _ good for Dave. _ Feels good because he's a good boy.. Dave's sugarcube. 

He realizes with horror that he hasn't been, and he kisses Dave's cheek, pupils dilated until the orange is just a slight ring around them, 

"'m sorry Dave-" he's all slurred, still coming, "'m sorry I-- I'm coming, 'wanted to be g-good-" His knees twitches, but he refrains from grinding, "'m sorry...." 

He pants, feeling  _ so good, _ but put out that he wasn't able to do it; he worked  _ so hard. _

After coming, his thoughts usually clears up. Now, he's still foggy, uncertain. The arms around Dave's neck tighten, his breath still going fast.

“No, shh, you did so good, honey, don’t be sorry…” Dave’s got both hands on Dirk’s face down, holding him, swiping his tears away, thumbing reassuringly over cheek bones. “I’m not disappointed, never disappointed, I’m so proud of you for being so good for so long...” He’s kissing between Dirk’s eyes and down his nose and his chin, shushing him so softly.

Something uncomfortable twists in his gut for a moment, that Dirk could ever feel bad about anything they do together. That’s not the  _ point _ of this. They’re supposed to make each other feel good, and that’s  _ it. _ Support each other, be vulnerable for each other, but never be put down.

But as he reassures Dirk, he realizes that this is the best he can do. Dirk handed himself over willingly, showed Dave things that he’d never let anyone else ever have. Of  _ course _ that would make Dirk feel insecure. Maybe fear rejection. But Dave will grind those fears into dust, accept every part of him, and tell him how much he loves him, no matter what Dirk might think of himself.

“Love you so much,” he murmurs, and then he’s kissing Dirk on the lips again. 

He rocks his hips up once, and sighs into their kisses, pleasure ripping through him all over again. He does it again, and again, and it’s only a shallow thrust, a slow grind of hips, but it’s enough. He keeps wiping Dirk’s tears as they spill, gently fucking into him until he’s finally hitting his own peak.

As he spills in Dirk, he pushes his tongue into his mouth again, tasting him and  _ consuming _ every piece of him. He’s thoroughly taken Dirk apart at the seams, and he’s going to make sure he gets sewn back together the right way.

Karkat can only watch for so long before he  _ has _ to turn away. It’s  _ indecent, _ it’s so much more than any pale porn he’s ever seen in his fucking life. And this time, he still misses Dave, sure, but he’s also so fucking glad that they  _ have that _ in each other. He’s happy for them, he loves them, and he’s getting hot over them all at the same time. 

It’s an awful, wonderful slurry of emotions and it makes him bite the inside of his cheek so he won’t look again. He’s pretty sure he just heard Dave say he loves Dirk, and they deserve their privacy right now.

Well, as much privacy as they could really hope to have, considering they know Karkat is right there.

Again, Dave's words are like a balm on Dirk's heart, seeping into old wounds and gently filling them with warmth. The storm on Dirk's face dissipates, the starting knot in his stomach dissolving.

Still proud of him, he's still good. He takes a long, shaky breath in, then nods a little, sniffling thickly. His body still throbs with pleasure, wracked with it. His desperate hold on Dave loosens, but he still has his arms wrapped around his neck like a needy, weak thing. 

Dirk slips his eyes shut, murmuring a soft 'love you' back. He moans, still so softly, almost inaudibly, when Dave fucks into him,  _ finally. _ "Love you, Davey-.." his voice a breath and his speech slurred, muffled into their kiss. All is right again. A couple more tears spills over his cheeks, but this time it's  _ good.  _

"hmmmmhhh...." A luxurious, loose sigh as Dave fills his mouth, fills his  _ insides, _ his own tongue lapping against Dave's more active one. He wants to thank Dave. 

Oh, he can just do that. 

"Fank yhh..." He tightens his legs around Dave briefly, gazing into Dave's eyes but slipping them shut. His kisses are so sloppy they probably don't even count as kisses; open-mouthed, tongue-first things that feel obscene when Dave meets them. 

Absently, he starts smoothing his hands through Dave's hair. Innocent strokes, kind of forgetting that he loves it so much. For just a moment though, before, "oh.. forgot. Sorry." And he moves it down to his neck, shifts his arms so he can stroke at Dave's neck and shoulders instead, calm settling into him, making him sleepy and spent.

Dave furrows his brows a bit as Dirk apologizes to him, and he’s quick to take Dirk’s hand in his, folding their fingers together. “Don’t say sorry… you can touch me as much as you want to.” He finds the hand he’s not holding and fits it back into his hair. He holds it there until Dirk keeps it there himself, and then winds an arm around Dirk’s waist again to hold him.

He squeezes Dirk’s hand as he kisses him again, reassuring, wanting to really make sure that Dirk knows that this is okay. He wants Dirk to have anything he wants right now, wants Dirk to  _ indulge. _ To know it’s alright to  _ want. _

He keeps Dirk just like that until the movie is finally over. Soft, light touches, holding him, kissing him sweetly, with his cock still buried so well inside him. 

As the credits roll, Dave strokes a thumb over Dirk’s hip with a hum. “You did it, sugar cube… the movie’s over.” There’s no reason for him to whisper anymore, but he keeps his voice soft anyway. “Do you want to take a break? Grab a snack? Hydrate? Gotta pee or something?”

Karkat  _ clearly _ needs a break, because he’s off the couch and gone faster than Dave can watch him go. Hm, he wonders if Karkat is alright. He would say something if he’s not, right?

Regardless, Dave’s dick has long gone soft, and he needs to get it out of Dirk sooner or later. He forces himself to let go of Dirk’s hand, which he is absolutely still holding, and uses both hands to try and lift Dirk off him. It’s an effort, for sure, Dirk is nothing more than dead weight on top of him, but he manages to shimmy his cock free and let Dirk settle back down against him.

“Talk to me, Dirk, tell me what you need.”

Dave attentive like this, all-seeing, so infinitely caring- it eases a hurt Dirk didn't know was there. He only felt it like a tensed muscle that loosened, a relaxation that leaves a small ache, but a good one. 

Dirk can only look into Dave's eyes in exhausted awe, hand laying still against Dave's skull before he gently soothes at it with his thumb, feeling silky tresses bunching up against it a little. Their hands intwined feels good. 

Now that the frantic energy to imminent orgasm has passed, relaxing into Dave's lap is the easiest thing in the world. A hand is holding his, an arm warm around him, and Dave's chest is there to hold his head. 

In what feels like too early, Dave is murmuring into his ear that the movie is done. Absurdly, he's disappointed. He gives a dissatisfied little grunt, hiding his face into Dave's neck, sighing out. Since his eyes apparently slipped shut, he gasps as Dave lifts him enough for his dick to slide out, letting them both hear that delicious little squelch it results in. 

"mmm..." he looks over to where Karkat is sitting; oh. Where'd he go? 

A little relieved, he murmurs, still so very softly, like he tries to keep that little bubble they've built for themselves, "Water... 'n I gotta pee... 'n wipe off this.." he puts a pad on the slowly drying come, making a disgusted little nose; it's flaking. 

He turns around to check the table; the snacks and drink is already there, and he thanks Karkat's movie-marathon routines internally. 

"Maybe that chocolate." He juts his thumb behind himself, 

... 

Dirk tucks a lock of Dave's hair behind his ear, then strokes his cheek slowly, looking to be in deep thought. He gently boops his nose with the pad of his thumb. When Dave doesn't react with more than a happy smile, he smiles back, still fuck-drunk and easy. 

"'n need you.." That's cheesy. He only smiles wider, giving Dave a tender kiss to the lips. He yawns, then chuckles. "m'legs are  _ so _ asleep...."

Dave laughs a little, his voice rough from how long he’s been quiet. “Maybe you should get up and stretch your legs a little then,” he offers. His own legs aren’t really fairing much better. With Dirk’s full weight on him now, his feet are all kinds of pins and needles. “We could both use it, actually.”

He wraps an arm around Dirk so he can lean forward without dropping him, and as he leans, he can  _ feel _ his own cum leaking back out of Dirk and onto his thighs. Yeah, they both definitely need a wipe down.

After snagging the chocolate and a bottle of water, he hands the first to Dirk and opens the later for himself. He takes a quick swig, before also handing that to Dirk. Dirk definitely needs it a lot more than he does.

He waits until Dirk is finished, and then tries urging Dirk to stand up.

...it doesn’t work.

He tries again, even helping to push Dirk along, but Dirk’s legs are just  _ not fucking having it. _

“Damn,” Dave says, with another little laugh. “Your legs are like… jelly, dude. Sorry. Well, I’m not actually sorry. But you know. I don’t know how you’re going to make it to the bathroom like this. I can pick you up and shit, but I don’t know if I can carry you all the way there. Is it cool if I go get Karkat to help?”

Dirk laughs with him just as easily, a little croaky. "Mhmm.."

He gasps and lets out a little sound when he feels come and slick dripping out of him, messing up their thighs. He takes the chocolate from Dave, opening it with numb-feeling hands, snapping off a piece with his teeth and chewing slowly; the sugary melt of it fits the mood perfectly. He lets Dave hold the bottle (mostly) as he takes long gulps of water, breathing out in relief when he pulls away; he was  _ parched.  _

When Dave tries helping him stand, he can't quite believe how jello his legs are; even when the pinpricks fades, his knees just  _ won't lock, _ his thighs trembling and useless. "Hahh-" his laugh is breathy, and he clings heavily onto him until they sit down for a break again, His ass and thighs squish with wet come and lube, and he moans another pretty moan. "m'legs've never been  _ this _ noodly before.." He still has that dreamy quality in his voice, visibly still fucked out of his mind. 

He perks up a little at Karkat's name, and he nods a little, laughing a little more. "Karkat is so strong... d'you know he can benchpress me...?" He gives Dave a chocolatey kiss,  _ "benchpress. _ So hot." 

Everything feels so good. His mind is so quiet. Something tries knocking at his door, inform him of some unfortunate shit, but he keeps the door shut. No thank you, out of business right now, try later. He'd rather just focus on Dave, on Dave's warm hands on him, how he holds him steady. His slightly rough voice, his high cheekbones. 

"You're hot too." in case he gets jealous.

Dirk really is just too cute right now. Sweet little laughs, sloppy kisses. Dave is head over heels to see him like this, there’s no other way to put it. It makes his heart flutter to know that he made Dirk feel this good. It’s almost childish, but Dave can honestly say that he never saw Dirk this happy, even when they were kids.

He’s been seeing more and more of it lately, which is so so so amazing.

“Yeah, Karkat’s hot as fuck, isn’t he?” he agrees with a smile. He gives Dirk one more kiss, and then starts to rock him off of his lap. “I’ll leave you here, be right back, okay?” He lies Dirk down on his back across the couch and slides out from under him. His hand lingers on Dirk’s thigh as he stands, like he can’t bear to be away from him (because: he can’t) and he gives him another smile before he’s headed toward the kitchen.

It was only a guess that Karkat would be there, but he’s right. Karkat’s just standing there against the counter, with his arms crossed, looking lost in thought. “...hey, you okay, dude?” Dave asks.

Karkat snaps his head up like he wasn’t expecting to be walked in on, but then he visible relaxes. Almost like… he’s forcing himself to be relaxed. “Yeah. I was just giving you guys a second. I needed some air.”

Needed air? That doesn’t sound okay. “You aren’t like… upset, are you?” Dave asks. Now his brow is furrowed with worry, and he wonders if he’s made a mistake pulling a stunt like that in front of Karkat.

“No, I’m… well, I was. But not because of you guys. Directly. Uh. It’s mostly unrelated.” Karkat sounds tense as he says it. He rubs the back of his neck, before sighing and actually looking at Dave. “I just--” he stops short, with  _ ’I just missed you’ _ on the tip of his tongue. He’s not sure if that’s a conversation he’s willing to start right now. Especially considering Dave came in here alone. “We can talk about it later. Where’s Dirk?”

Dave looks like he doesn’t believe that shit for a second, but if Karkat’s going to be difficult about it, he supposes that it can wait. Who knows if Dirk is out there peeing on the couch, they gotta go. “You know you can talk to me any time, right?” he asks anyway. And then, a suspicious once over with his eyes. “Dirk needs your help getting to the bathroom. Can’t walk.”

“Wow, Dave,” Karkat says, and he actually cracks a grin now. “You’ve left me pretty boneless before, but not  _ useless.” _

“Dude, don’t say it like that, you’ll hurt his feelings right now.”

They each raise an eyebrow at each other, but Dave stands firm. He knows that Dirk is vulnerable as shit right now, and the slightest off comment might send him under.

“Will you just help me?”

Karkat gives, easily, it’s not like he would ever say no, and they share a quick kiss before heading back out to the living room. Karkat picks Dirk bodily up off the couch and carries him all on his own to the bathroom.

Benchpress indeed, damn.

Dave gets him to set Dirk down on the toilet, and then Karkat leaves them alone again. Dave strips each of them of their soiled clothes and starts gathering a wet rag in the sink. “You still feeling okay?” he asks.

"Mmhkay..." With Karkat, leaving was a huge fucking issue. It was like.. Kind of about how they protect each other or something? That it was a pitch snub if they left. 

With Dave, it's very different. Dirk  _ knows _ Dave will be back, because he just knows. There is no way Dave would leave him like this. There is nothing to worry about. So when Dave lies him down, though he whines theatrically as they part, it's easy enough to lounge there on their couch, letting his mind swirl in lazy, empty patterns. 

He can hear the bass of his boyfriends' voices, not enough to really catch any words. It sounds a little sombre, but he can't seem to muster up any anxiety about it. He smoothes a hand over his own sensitive nipple, shuddering a little. 

When Karkat comes in fist from the kitchen, he perks up, not even  _ trying _ to sit up cause he  _ wants _ Karkat to benchpress him, it's hilarious and great and  _ hot. _ "oooh, mr. Vantas~.." his voice is light and playful, obviously in a great mood. He still sounds a little slurry and fuckdrunk, though he's slowly getting back online. 

Then he's on the toilet, and he sighs a little again, leaning back on the toilet heavily. It's a different kind of sore he's feeling; there's not a scratch on him, he hasn't exerted himself, he literally didn't move for about four hours; but he's been tense. Tense like a bowstring, and he can feel it's affected him a little, that he's going to be sore. 

His ass is so sloppy he's sure he's gonna drip for days. 

"Yeah, 'm good.." He tips his head back to lure Dave into another little kiss, which he manages to. He smiles widely. "Did you see'm deadlift me? God _ damn. _ Troll-muscles, man, it's hella unfair." 

He does his business and reaches behind himself to flush, then leans back, a happy little sound when Dave starts washing him. 

"Coiled like wire, I perspire, man you wanna think 'ma damn liar? Listen  _ up-" _

He slaps the sink a little as he lays down some sick rhymes about how hot his beefy boyfriends are. He might have some weak lines, like going on about his 'panties drenching from them patties', but it's overall a pretty sweet freestyle. 

Sometimes, he used to freestyle when he was tending to Dave's wounds. Or when Dave was with him when he tended to his own. He'd make dumbass raps, make them so ironic Dave would roll his eyes at him, and then the scrubs on his knees weren't that painful anymore. 

So damn lame, but that was the point.

Dave can’t stop grinning as Dirk rambles on in his rap. He picks up where Dirk stumbles, and it’s all just too stupidly cute, until…

Until Dirk says something about his  _ boyfriends, _ as in his plural boyfriends, as in more than one, and Dave’s entire fucking heart gets stuck in his throat. He’s been thinking about Dirk as his moirail this entire time, but he hasn’t actually said it because he didn’t want to freak Dirk out. They haven’t actually talked about what they are, they’ve just been…  _ being. _

Has Dirk been thinking the same thing the whole time?

It’s dumb to get all worked up about it now, it’s just a word, it doesn’t change their relationship at all, but…

He doesn’t even wait for DIrk to stop rapping before he leans in and gives him a kiss. It’s long and tender and his heart is fucking hammering in his chest. He doesn’t think he should say anything about it, Dirk isn’t exactly in the most solid place of mind and he doesn’t want to stir anything up, so he just keeps kissing him.

They’re both clean already, have been for a few minutes, so when he finally manages to pull himself away from the kiss, he stands. But not without another kiss to Dirk’s forehead on the way. He’s still smiling stupidly, he can’t help it.

“I’m gonna grab us some clothes real quick, alright? See if you can get your legs to work while I’m gone. If you can’t, I’ll get you back to the couch somehow.”

Dave stops in his own room to pull on a fresh t-shirt. He considers boxers, and realizes… nah. That doesn’t need to be a thing. Then he heads to Dirk’s room to grab him some clothes too, but he stops as he’s reaching for a t-shirt. Rethinks. Turns around.

When he comes back to the bathroom, he’s got an armful of one of Karkat’s sweaters. He’s sure their boyfriend won’t mind the theft, and he’s  _ positive _ that Dirk will love it.


	16. Dirk/Karkat/Dave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The movie marathon continues. Karkat can't sit still anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall this was a TRIPLE UPDATE!! Hell yeah dude. Make sure you skip back to chap 14 if you haven't read it yet <3

Predictably, Dirk hasn’t been able to stand, so Dave helps him dress and then turns around to kneel in front of Dirk. “Put your arms around my neck, I might be able to carry you on my back.” He helps Dirk up a bit, secures Dirk’s thighs around his hips, and fucking stumbles as he tries to stand back up, but he manages to make it with some help from the sink.

“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “Karkat really is a hell of a lot stronger than me, I guess.” It’s a struggle to make it back to the couch, but they make it in one piece, even if they all but fall back onto it when they get there. 

Karkat’s already a few minutes into the movie, so Dave tugs Dirk back into his lap again, but this time with Dirk’s ass between his legs on the cushion, to maybe save them both the trouble of going numb again. He pulls their forgotten blanket up over Dirk’s lap and wraps both arms around him.

Dirk giggles tiredly, a little jump in his stomach as Dave stumbles with him in his arms, feeling warm and comfy in Karkat's sweater. It's one of his newer ones, and it's deliciously loose on him. Hot. 

"'m tellin' you, dude, troll muscles." 

They collapse onto the couch, and Dirk winces a little his ass hits the sofa. It's a weird feeling, not exactly  _ painful.  _

Dirk looks over to Karkat, acting all coy and pushing the neck up to cover his mouth, smiling to himself. Yeah, he's wearing  _ his _ sweater, whatcha gonna do about it, complain to your Matesprit..? 

He rearranges the blanket over them to his liking, smoothing his hands over the fabric happily. He loves the texture of this blanket, it's soo soft and fluffy, and kind of heavy. 

Honestly, he doesn't even get a chance to remember where the second film starts plot wise; about five minutes in he hasn't been able to focus, so soft and warm and surrounded by Dave, and when he leans his head back he can  _ just _ lean his head on Dave's shoulder, comfortably turning his head and nuzzling Dave's neck, a soft, warm sigh heating the skin there. 

Hands finding Dave's, he holds onto them gently, and he's out like a fucking light, not even trying to stay awake.

Karkat can hear voices in the bathroom, laughing, a beat that sounds like rapping. He’s glad that they’re having fun, but after a few minutes, he decides that he’s not going to wait for them to start the movie. They’ve already seen it anyway, and who knows how long they’re going to be. Besides, considering how distracting they were during the first movie, Karkat might as well catch as much of the plot as he can before they come back.

It’s not long before they come tumbling back out onto the couch, and-- is Dirk wearing his sweater? Wow, it’s a totally different feeling to  _ see _ that instead of being the one wearing Dirk’s clothes. It’s not bad, by any means, but it’s… different.

And seeing them all cuddled up tugs at his heart in a way that makes him want to join them, but he’s not sure if he should.

But then he realizes that’s  _ stupid, _ of course he can join them, and Dirk isn’t even awake anyway, so. He scoots over and pulls his legs up on the couch, knees to his own chest, shoulder against Dave’s. Quietly, he says, “He’s cute sometimes, when he’s not trying so hard to be an asshole.”

Dave continues gently soothing his thumb over one of Dirk's hands, but unlatches the other one so he can wrap is arm over Karkat's shoulder, encouraging him to take up the space on his free shoulder. It's like a cuddle-fest up in here, and everyone is invited. 

"Yeah, I told you he's cute.." His worry for Karkat eases up a little, and he kisses the top of his head, then his horn, smiling. He's a little glad Dirk is conked out so he won't hear Karkat's less than sensitive wording. 

"Are you enjoying the films?" His voice goes soft in that sultry way he uses to reel Karkat in with, and he kisses at an ear. "Who's your favourite character? 

He still feels like there's a little something missing; he wonders what could have Karkat 'needing air,' but it still kind of feels like the wrong moment. 

He uses his free hand to stroke Karkat's neck briefly, resting his cheek against Karkat's head and looking to the movie. Oh, this part. He always felt like the second movie was more bad-guy centred.

Karkat hums, sinking against Dave as comfortably as he can. Which, turns out, is pretty fucking comfortable. Parts of him lay on Dave, other parts press softly against Dirk, and it’s just… warm. Damn, he loves them.

“Uh… I think my favourite is probably Aragorn? He’s humble, kind, loving. Good looking…” He slides his eyes over toward Dave. Truthfully, the character reminds him of both the boys next to him and that’s why he likes him, but he won’t say that. “They’re pretty good so far, I guess. I can see why you wanted me to watch so badly.”

He gives Dave a kiss on the lips. He can feel the way they’re already starting to chap, from having kissed Dirk so fucking much. They should start keeping chapstick stashed around the house with all Dirk’s lube, for christ’s sake. Not that he’s mad about all the kissing. It’s just a good idea.

Another little kiss, and then, “Even though I see now that you  _ clearly _ had other plans for this marathon. It was never about me seeing the movies, was it?”

"Hmm.." He gives Karkat another kiss, grinning smugly. "It kind of happened by itself, baby.... But yeah, I was pretty certain Dirk was gonna try for some sweet lovin'." 

Kissing Karkat feels good. Revelation of the year, but never less true. He's always so careful with his teeth, and his tongue is warmer than his human one, and it feels amazing on any part of him. 

He might still be a bit horny. 

"Of course you'd like the stereotypical tall dark stranger, hmm.. I assure you our intentions were pure and nothing but pure, Mr. Vantas, scouts honor. 'm sure Dirk's gonna love talking your ear off about Tolkien lore. If he asks you to learn elvish with him, say no." 

Dave continues kissing at Karkat, moving his lips to trail along his jaw, towards his ear. He smoothes his hand up and down Dirk's chest, and he feels a sigh hot against his neck. 

"Were you very distracted..?" His voice is that syrupy innocent that  _ reeks _ of deceit, "we were being very, very quiet... Do you know when we started..?" 

He smirks into Karkat's ear, blowing into it very gently.

Karkat rolls his eyes at Dave’s words, trying to act like none of it affects him, even though it very much fucking does. You’d think that after four hours of fucking Dirk, Dave would be pretty worn out. But Karkat knows when his boyfriend is coming onto him, and Dave is definitely not tired yet.

Not that Karkat is complaining. He could use a bit of Dave based attention himself.

“Well, I saw you when the movie first started, but you were only kissing…” He kisses Dave himself, then, because he can now. “And then… Didn’t hear anything until Dirk made that noise. You were kissing his chest and he was… I don’t know, I’ve never heard him sound like that before.” He glances down at Dirk’s sleeping face. He looks peaceful. He looks happy. Karkat’s heart aches, but in a good way.

He lifts a hand to stroke down Dirk’s arm, and sighs. “I couldn’t really tune you out all the way after that. I tried, though. It was really…” He shifts in his seat, heat pooling between his legs all over again just thinking about it. “Confusing. Distracting. You two are really good together…”

A moment of hurt flickers across his face again, but he stamps it down. He’d rather enjoy being red with Dave right now than pine for something pale. He’s got two amazing boyfriends, it’s selfish for him to be upset over not having a third, isn’t it?

Dave makes little 'mhm's and 'oh yeah's at Karkat as he talks, smirk getting deeper. So he'd taken Karkat by total surprise... And he listened  _ all _ the way through... And Karkat got horny from it.. Fuck, knowing that for certain makes something in him squirm, hot and hungry again. 

He's about to preen, dig for more dirty details, but he sees how Karkat's face momentarily blanches. He's always been easy to read, the most open book known to man and troll alike, and he can see something is making him upset. 

"Hey..." He leans down to give Karkat a longer kiss, rubbing Karakt's earlobe between his thumb and pointer, warming it up, "I got really hot thinking about you watching us, you know..?" He doesn't want to push Karkat to talk when he's already deflected, but he sure can distract. "Dirk just about squeezed my dick off when he realized." 

Dave traces his tongue over sharp teeth, sighing out happily. Karkat always tastes delicious, even with morning breath. Not that he has it now, but he's just saying. Karkat is  _ yummy. _ "I was thinking to myself, wonder what Karkat would contribute with if I asked him to join us.. How would my Karkat make Dirk even sloppier.." 

He can't help himself, has to give Karkat a deeper, dirtier kiss. It makes him so horny, thinking about the three of them melting into one big puddle of pleasure. He moans from somewhere deep inside of him, the hand stroking over Dirk's chest pushing down a little, pulling him a little bit closer. 

"Knowing you were listening, hearing how wrecked I made him... so hot."

“You  _ really _ wrecked him, too, didn’t you…” Karkat observes. The looks Dirk wore on his face, the noises he made, the way his body shook. Karkat’s never seen anything like it. From either of them, actually. 

Sure, Dave tops sometimes. Sure, Dave likes watching, listening, being watched, anything along those lines; that’s pretty much never been a secret. Sure, Dave likes a little bit of light scratching or biting or hair pulling, but nothing Karkat would consider to be crazy. Especially not next to Dirk’s intensity. But Karkat never knew Dave could be  _ so _ dominant. Enough to put Dirk down like that? Like, damn, that’s a  _ lot. _

“Had no idea you were this kinky,” he says. His hand strokes along Dirk’s arm again, who remains unstirred in his sleep, as Karkat kisses back at Dave. “All this time, you managed to hide it from me somehow… Always so gentle with me…”

He rubs his nose with Daves, in a gesture that’s far too cute, considering the tone of voice Dave is using with him. His arousal had barely managed to settle before, and it’s easy to kick back up now. One wrong- or  _ right _ look from Dave, and his bulge will already be happy to come out and play.

“Not that I mind you being gentle with me… I just… want you to know you can share things with me, yeah?”

"Heh, yeah, he was pretty sloppy by the end... I'm surprised he didn't stop me half-way." Dave brings a hand up to pet Dirk's hair, then wraps it around him again, shifting. If he gets him just a  _ tad _ closer, he's be able to rub his half-chub against the cleft of Dirk's ass. Dirk sighs in his sleep, making a little sound and nuzzling into neck further. 

So fucking cute. 

"Uh? I'm not kinky, dude." He kisses Karkat back easily, smiling as he feels the heat of Karkat's hand brushing over his as he strokes at Dirk's arm. That is also extremely cute. 

Still. Hm. So Karkat wants him to share things, right...? 

Dave takes hold of Karkat's wandering hand, lowering his eyelids and giving him his more mischievous smile. He leads it down Dirk's chest, down to his hips, under the covers and ultimately under the sweater Dave so innocently stole for him to wear. 

"I know a thing we can.. share... right now.. " Their joined hand slides up Dirk's inner thigh, and Dirk gives a little twitch, though nothing more. "If you want to, of course." 

It would be a wet dream come true. The three of them together again, only this time it wouldn't be Dirk running the show. 

"If you can follow the things I tell you to do, of course." 

Dave has to take some precautions. With Dirk as fragile as this, sicking his kismesis on him would probably normally be beyond cruel. He can see how easily Karkat steps into quadrant, how he raises his hackles and spits and hisses. How they build up their tension on words and mockery and smirks. That shit can't fly with Dirk like this. 

But he does want Karkat with him on this oh so much....

Karkat’s face gets hotter and hotter, spreading quickly down the rest of his body as Dave moves his hand for him over Dirk’s sleeping form. Is that… is that okay??? Dirk is literally asleep. 

Holy shit, what’s happening.

His eyes flick quickly back up to Dave’s, catching a quick breath. “How the fuck can you say ‘I’m not kinky’ and ‘follow my directions’ at the same time? While making me touch your sleeping brother? Do you honestly not see how kinky this is?” His voice rises in pitch as he talks, but he doesn’t get louder. It’s more of a stressed noise, but even still, he can’t deny that he’s so fucking into it.

Can’t deny that he loves how warm and soft the skin of Dirk’s stomach feels in the palm of his hand. He can feel each even, sleeping breath rise and fall in Dirk, and the confusion he feels only fans his heat.

“He’s  _ asleep,” _ he says again, like Dave somehow doesn’t know it. When he’d scoot closer to Dave, he knew that they would probably end up messing around, but the most he imagine was like… maybe touching himself while Dave kissed him, he doesn’t know. What was Dave really going to do with Dirk in his lap?

Karkat’s finding out quickly that he has no idea what Dave is capable of.

"Shh... Do you want to wake him up..?" Dave kisses Karkat again to shut him up, nibbling on his lower lip. Dirk's body is warm, maybe more so since he's been toyed with so much from before.

This isn't really  _ kinky, _ Dave muses as he gently cups Dirk's soft cock and balls, Karkat's hand next to his, stroking at the juncture between his crotch and inner thigh.They're just having fun. No whips and chains needed for that. 

Dirk had told him about how hot it was that one time, when him and Karkat had gone at it, and he almost fell asleep sucking his bulge. He's pretty sure Dirk would find this hot as well, and ... well, if he didn't, he could use the safeword, and they won't do it again. 

Slowly, gently enough that it won't jostle Dirk, he starts grinding into the cleft of Dirk's ass. It's dry, so he can't do too much without adding a little lube, but he's patient. He has to get Karkat on board first. 

"You don't have to if you don't want to." He plays with the small hairs on the back of Karkat's neck, urging him close so they can kiss deeper. "But I think you like this." He moves his hand away from Karkat's hair so he can dig behind himself and find the lube bottle again. He gives Karkat a little smirk, popping it open quietly. "You like  _ Dirk _ like this."

Karkat  _ does _ like Dirk like this, but it’s not how Dave apparently thinks. He just likes to see Dirk so relaxed for once. So open and soft. So happy, here with Dave, picked apart, easy. He likes that Dirk would never fight him like this. That he could take anything he wanted, just like Dave is doing.

...Okay, so maybe he does like it a little bit. It wouldn’t be the first or last time he’s fucked around with Dirk while the guy was more or less asleep. He just… happens to be very much  _ more _ asleep right now. Dead asleep. The kind of asleep where he wouldn’t even kiss back if he were kissed. And Karkat’s never done that before.

But maybe Dave has? If he thinks this is okay… He’ll just have to trust him.

He follows Dave’s direction to let Dave kiss him deeper. He keeps his hand on Dirk’s thigh where Dave left it, squeezing gently at the flesh there. A little thrill runs up his spine when Dirk doesn’t even stir. 

_ What the fuck, this is so fucking weird. _

Still, the tip of his bulge is starting to peek from inside his sheath. His underwear is wet and he’s hot and jesus, he’s doing this. He breaks his kiss with Dave to give a hesitant, “Okay…” He bites the inside of his own cheek. “Tell me what to do.”

The slightly uncertain but obviously excited look Karkat gives Dave makes everything ten times better. Line, hook, sinker. 

He's probably soaked at this point. He can see how dilated his pupils are, how he kind of pushes his thighs together for friction. Dave has to give him another kiss, swirling their tongues together wetly before smiling to him sweetly. 

"First, we have to be quiet..." His voice is a soft murmur, but he knows Karkat can hear him very well, "I need you to put some of this in my hand first." He gives Karkat the opened lube, his other hand still gently cupping Dirk's junk, stroking over the skin right above it. 

When Karkat does as said, he grins and sucks his stomach in, so he can fit his hand between his and Dirk's body, and he slicks up the cleft of Dirk's ass, using the rest on his own now almost fully hard length. Dirk twitches a little and makes a tiny 'hmm..?' into his neck, but he just kisses his forehead and tells him "don't worry sugarcube, just relax."

Dirk sleeps on, none the wiser.

He brings his hand out, licking his lips briefly, not quite sure what to do with his slick hand. He breathes out a little, sharing a somewhat excited look with Karkat, bites his lower lip briefly. 

"I'm going to.. dryhump him...." His voice gets a brief shake, cause fuck, it's so hot, he's going to melt. "How about you give Dirk some kisses all over.. On his neck and thighs.. If you just move down here, we can open his legs a little..."

Down here being between Dirk's legs, and Dave moves the hand from his crotch to oh so gently hook it around the back of Dirk's knee, hooking it over his own. Dirk just grunts and accepts the change, completely out of it.

Dirk remains under the blanket, but Karkat can see the lewd spread of his thighs beneath it. Dirk’s knees draped over both of Dave’s, propped open by the fact that Dave’s legs are also spread.

This whole thing feels wrong; from disgusting smear of quadrants, to the fact that Dirk is asleep. Dave cooing in Dirk’s ear for him to relax and just take it settles like hot rocks in Karkat’s stomach, and he can’t deny that it’s horribly erotic, no matter how sick it feels.

The movie is one hundred percent forgotten.

He slides his hand up Dirk’s thigh to brace himself, fingers settled in the crease of his hip as he leans in to kiss Dave. It’s more of a pass, though, because it only lasts for a second before he’s leaning further in to tentatively kiss at Dir’s cheek.

A pause. 

Dirk doesn’t complain.

Another kiss.

And then he’s kissing down Dirk’s neck, to the collar of his  _ own sweater. _ Goddamnit, how Dave thought putting his moirail in his kismesis’ sweater during a pile  _ wasn’t _ kinky is way fucking beyond Karkat, but he’s not about to start complaining about it. He likes Dirk in his sweater, likes that he can smell himself on him. Because Dirk is his.

And Dave’s.

Karkat is Dave’s, too. So he’ll play Dave’s game.

As if he needed that much convincing, he thinks, as he fingers along the inside of Dirk’s thigh. He keeps kissing at Dirk’s throat, and it’s been a while since he’s done this without biting. Dirk’s been really into the aggressive stuff lately, and maybe it’s actually good to give his skin a break. He runs his tongue over healing scars, and Dirk shivers a little, and Karkat’s bulge  _ thrives _ inside his jeans.

Fuck.

He has to stop touching Dirk so he can get the blanket off. Carefully, so carefully, he peels it away from Dirk’s body. He watches Dirk’s face the entire time, to make sure he doesn’t wake up, and he doesn’t. When Karkat looks down, he’s not surprised to see that Dirk is nearly hard already. A few more easy strokes, and he’d be fully erect, and it’s  _ so tempting. _

It’s just as tempting, though, to see how far Dirk can get on his own, with only light touches and Dave grinding into his ass to guide him along. Oh, he would never let Dirk live it down.

He has to scoot away from them a bit, so that when he pets over, his face is in Dirk’s lap. He lifts the sweater just enough to press a kiss to Dirk’s bare hip. His skin is warm, and his body moves just slightly, from Dave rocking into him from behind.

Hell. Just because he won’t touch Dirk yet doesn’t mean he can’t touch himself. He needs it, he’s been waiting for hours to do it. So he reaches one hand between himself and the couch to open his jeans, to stuff his hand inside. He moans quietly into Dirk’s skin as his bulge tangles with his fist, and squeezes.

The sounds of Dave's slick cock sliding wetly between Dirk's cheeks makes him blush. It's beyond hot, the way Dirk lies limply against him, propped open and breathing deeply and relaxedly into his neck. 

It feels teasing, the way Dirk's breath is making the skin on his neck and chest tingle, even though he knows Dirk isn't conscious enough to even know what's going on. His eyes are closed, face lax, mouth slightly open. 

Seeing Karkat unwrap Dirk like a present is something he's going to remember for the next fifty wanks to come. 

So cute. Dave ducks his head a little and grinds a little faster, murmuring to Karkat, "Yeah, be gentle...So so gentle.." He smears his lube-slick hand on Dirk's lower stomach, then runs his hand through Karkat's hair, playing with it while he continues rolling his hips.

If anything, he feels like he has even  _ more _ time now than before; no cute Dirk to persuade him to go faster, no Karkat to hide from... He sighs, hooded eyes taking in how Karkat starts touching himself, how he moans against Dirk's skin. "Mmh, babe, you look so hot like that..." 

He imagines himself sinking into Dirk. His sloppy, fucked out hole taking him in easily, his eyes blinking open in confusion, seeing them both molesting him so wonderfully while he was sleeping... 

He'll love it, Dave is sure. He'll mewl and take it, his legs too noodly to unhook himself. 

"Don't come until I do, okay, Karkat...?" He brings his free hand up to smoothe over Dirk's head, kissing the top of it lovingly. "We're going to make him feel even better by the end of this.." 

While Dirk is asleep, it doesn't mean his body isn't responding. Karkat's little kisses, hot tongue on his hip, sends bursts of goosebumps, his leg twitching a little. His breaths are slowly becoming a little more shallow, and Dave knows that if he'd been awake, he'd force his breath even. 

Dave wonders if he can make him moan sweetly in his sleep, uninhibited. 

He strokes a thumb against one of Karkat's hornbeds, murmuring, "Do you want to fuck him after me..?"

“God, yeah,” Karkat breathes. With Dirk like this, he’s easy, it’s all far too fucking easy. He’s like a doll, a fuck toy to be passed back and forth between the two of them-- and considering that Karkat has never thought about any of this before today, the thought of it makes him incredibly fucking hot.

He’s not used to this. He’s not used to just… being able to do this without a fight. It’s always a fight with Dirk, and Karkat  _ likes it that way. _ It makes his heart race and his nook wet, but this is different. It’s a whole new playing field and he’s ready to sink his teeth in.

Not literally, though. His teeth are too sharp, and Dirk is sleeping.

“...are you actually going to fuck him like this?” he asks. He’s a little bit breathless over it. It’s one thing to touch Dirk, and grind against him, and another completely to do  _ that. _

His stuffs his hands further into his pants, letting his bulge wrap up and around his wrist as he fingers carefully at his nook. He hasn’t… actually… had to finger his own nook in a long time. It’s a bizarre thing, to knuckle carefully between his folds, while both his boyfriends perfectly capable blunt little fingers are right here. He’s almost jealous, that Dirk got so much of Dave’s attention, and he’s left to take care of himself like this.

At least, he would be jealous, if he weren’t so fucking horny. His knuckles are fine. He’ll have his turn with Dirk, Dave just told him.

His mouth moves over Dirk’s skin, from his hip, down his thigh, up to his belly button. Teasing, even if Dirk can’t appreciate it properly. It’s still satisfying to feel his skin prickle, to watch his cock twitch.

He leans in to kiss at the tip of it, then roll his tongue over the slit. Whoops, Dirk likes that too much, he probably should have started out slower.

He kisses down the side of it, gently, just warm enough, until he’s nuzzling his nose into Dirk’s balls. He licks at them, long and slow. He can feel Dave’s eyes on him, loves Dave’s hand in his hair.

Dirk sighs sweetly, twitching and giving off a sleepy 'ahh..'. Dave coos and kisses Dirk's forehead again, his heart in his throat when Dirk nuzzles into his and goes lax again. 

He wonders how far they can go before Dirk actually wakes up. From the way his eyes are rolling behind his eyelids, he's firmly in REM, and he's probably having the best wet-dream right now. 

Dave keeps rolling his hips, keeps rubbing at Karkat's hornbed, hard enough to easily sink into Dirk and claim him again. Watching Karkat so carefully licking at Dirk's cock and balls feels  _ illegal, _ something he's pretty sure he's never seen before. He knows Karkat can be gentle; he's on the other side of it pretty much every day; but seeing him be careful with  _ Dirk...  _

Yeah. Spankbanked.™

"Yeah… yeah, I'm gonna fuck into him like this... Just gotta aim my dick right and it's gonna slip right in, I've prepared him so good." He soothes over Dirk's stomach with his free hand, coddling him like the sleepy baby he is, eyes glued on the wet tongue trailing lovingly over well-spent flesh. Dirk is hard again, so much so that it's starting to look a bit painful, and his thighs keep twitching, just a little, but Dave can  _ feel _ it, how they briefly try to close. 

He sighs, gently leaning his head back as he gives a tiny bit more of a needy grind, biting his lip when he hears the filthy, bubbly squelch it produces between them. 

Yup, he needs to be inside Dirk now. 

"Karkat.... 'm gonna put it inside now...." Dave gives him ample time to look up and catch Dirk's face, in case he wakes up, in case he makes a  _ delicious _ expression in his sleep. 

He moves his hand down between them again, sighing softly against Dirk's hair when he grabs his own dick, giving it a firm squeeze. It's not hard at all to find the epicentre of softness down the, find where Dirk dips inwards.

At first he just teases himself, rubbing the head over Dirk's entrance, delighting in the croaky moan that easily slips out of Dirk's mouth. Still asleep. 

Holy shit he's still asleep. He's going to wake up with Dave's cock in him, Karkat's mouth on his dick... God, he's going to see his own knees spread wide over Dave's own legs, see them tremble... 

Dave gives off a slow moan, continuing to tease himself for longer than strictly necessary just to hear Dirk continue to moan breathily with each exhale, probably slowly starting to find his wet dream to be very realistic. 

He wants to be inside before that happens, though. So, infinitely slowly, he starts sinking in. It's like sinking into room temperature butter, but hotter and wetter. There's no resistance, lax but clutching at him lovingly- and even when he goes past his midpoint, all Dirk does is moan wantonly, being fucked in his dreams and in reality. 

That's what makes Dave stop up after he bottoms out, his breath a little more laboured than he'd care to admit. He doesn't want Dirk to wake up. He was kind of sure he  _ would _ by now, but the fact that he hasn't sits like molten lava in his gut. 

"I'm-..." he licks his not at all dry lips, "I'm in, mm.... can you see it from there..?"

The angle is weird, and Karkat ends up crushing his own arm between himself and the couch as he tries to look up and keep his mouth on Dirk’s cock at the same time. It doesn’t really work, but the look on Dirk’s face is more than worth the lack of dick in his mouth.

He watches Dirk’s face twist, his eyes scrunch together and his mouth fall open on the most breathless noise he’s ever heard. He watches Dirk’s fingers flex into the fabric of his sweater, tense, relax again.

And then Dirk’s face falls into the most blissed out expression, as his unconscious mind decides to just… accept it. 

Holy fucking shit, he’s  _ still asleep. _ That’s not even fucking possible, is it? Dave said it’s in, didn’t he? He definitely did. Oh my fucking god.

Karkat groans and his nook gives a hot throb, a whole new wave of pre soaking his fingers. Fuck. “He’s so fucking hot, Dave,  _ look at him,” _ he says, and he forgets to keep his voice down. Does it even matter, though??

He can’t do this like this anymore.

He sits up and pulls his hand out of his pants. He stands, shoves his pants and underwear down and kicks them off his ankles. His bulge is  _ hot _ and the cold of the room slaps cruelly against it, so he wraps his hand back up in it before sinking to his knees in front of his boys.

He leans back in and licks up the length of Dirk’s cock again. From here, he can look up, right into Dave’s eyes. Right now, he wants nothing more than to have one of them inside him, but something pulls at him and tells him that Dave hasn’t said that’s okay yet. So he should wait. He can’t even properly suck Dirk off, though, not with a mouth like his. All he can do is lick and kiss at it, so that’s what he does.

He brings his free hand up to stroke at Dirk’s thigh, and thumb beside his knee. He doesn’t stop looking up at Dave as he mouths down the underside of Dirk’s cock, and it twitches for him.

"Yeah-..." Dave's hand is smoothing over Dirk's abdomen a little feverishly, lost in the feeling of Dirk's soft insides hugging his dick like a wellfitted pocketpussy. His hole gives a couple of twitches, but when Dave doesn't move, Dirk seems to accept it as normal. 

God.. "Just taking my dick like that.... He's such a good boy... God, he's still all relaxed..." He doesn't dare raise his voice more than a murmur, too excited about being inside Dirk without him  _ knowing.  _

Knowing Dirk would let him, anyway.

He's giving Dirk's shoulder soft, loving kisses as he feels Karkat getting up, and he sucks a breath in in arousal as Karkat kneels between their legs, bulge wrapped up around his wrist. 

"Mmh..."  _ Exactly _ as he wanted. He locks gaze with Karkat as he licks daintly at Dirk's dick, his balls. He's totally dripping onto the floor, desperately horny. He's going to fuck Dirk after him. 

_ God.  _ He's going to fuck Dirk, making Dirk's count  _ three _ today.. 

"That's perfect, Karkat... fuck, you're so hot like this... I wanna taste your genmat..." Slowly, incrementally, he starts rolling his hips, pulling his dick out just a little from Dirk's loose hole before squishing back inside. 

_ "aahhn..." _ Dave  _ jumps _ at the loud moan passing unhindered out of Dirk's mouth, and he locks round eyes with Karkat's again-- holy shit.

Dirk gives off a firm twitch, eyelids fluttering a little. He gives off another mewling whine as Dave slowly starts moving, a controlled little roll of his hips that has his legs aching almost right away.

He's on his way to waking up, Dave can  _ feel _ it. Can feel it in the way his body starts twitching, starts assessing what's going on. He shushes softly into Dirk's ear, strokes his cheek. It helps a little, he seems to think it might just be soreness, cause he makes a tired, whimpery sound and nuzzles into Dave's neck firmer, giving it a sleepy kiss. 

He bites his lips as he keeps his gaze locked with Karkat's, face as red as his eyes. God…

Karkat can’t believe what’s happening, even as he sees it with his own eyes. Dave moves, and Dirk is  _ loud, _ and somehow, fucking somehow, he does not wake up.

He  _ must _ be waking, right? Stuck somewhere between reality and a dream? Is he dreaming about them? Can he even dream, or is it all feelings? Fuck, he must feel so fucking good, making a noise like that. Totally at the mercy of sensation, without his big stupid brain getting in the way.

Karkat might be just a little bit envious.

He’s distracted from his own job, unable to keep his eyes off Dave, off Dirk, watching the both of them famished eyes. He’s never been very good at giving head anyway, so it probably doesn’t make a difference. (At least, he thinks so, but Dave has never said anything. He’s never done it for Dirk, though.) 

It especially won’t matter to Dirk now, who seems incapable of feeling anything but  _ good _ in the first place.

He mouths along the underside of Sirk’s cock, the fronts of his teeth rubbing along the skin as he goes. He wraps his hand around the other side of it, stroking along with his mouth. He goes on like that, slow, just as slow as he can feel Dave’s hips moving, until he stops to tongue at the slit again. He knows that Dirk is sensitive there, more sensitive than Dave is, and maybe it’ll help him wake a bit.

As hot as Dirk is like this, he can’t wait to see his eyes flutter open, the realization cross his features. The sounds he’ll keep making, the way he will probably try to struggle. Dirk would resist this if he were awake, right? Try and gain the upper hand? But he  _ can’t. _

He’s barely touched himself, he feels like, but he can still feel his insides swelling with genmat. It’s nothing like when his boys touch him, and he can’t help but imagining those lax, sleeping lips on him. He wonders if Dirk would still eat him in his sleep, like an instinct he physically can’t help from performing. He likes it enough, Karkat is  _ sure _ he would at least try.

It’s that thought, and the look in Dave’s eyes that push him close. He can probably cum like this, once Dave tells him to. And then he’ll get to fuck Dirk, god, he can’t fucking wait.

Hands on him. It’s a warmth that travels all the way to his core. He can vaguely hear the movie going in the background, sending his initial dreams straight into fantasy territory. He feels like he’s found a sunspot in Rivendell, so warm and comfortable he wants to lie there forever. Still, the hands smoothes over him, like warm, heavy stones keeping him from drifting off. Dirk vaguely feels his hand leaving Dave’s, but that’s ok, he’s not sure he was holding it anyway. 

His dreams shifts like syrup, so heavy and heavenly that he sighs out happily into Dave’s neck. Vague flashes of lips and horns and round shades, or familiar hands on him and the bass of Dave’s voice shooshing him softly, and Dirk lets himself melt into the easy temptation of it, letting himself drift further into sweet oblivion. The hands on him spreads him open, pulls him apart, and that’s fine too, his back can feel the safeness of Dave against him, and he dreams on. 

Flashes of sticky wetness, of something hot against him, and he murmurs in askance, but Dave only shooshes him again, assuring him that everything’s fine. More hands, he’s in a bubblebath, hands soothing over him, deliciously spreading him open, caressing him. More lips on his skin, arms around him, hands pulling his knees apart and holding his cock and balls. 

It feels so sinfully good, the arousal like a well of hot, sweetened tea, spilling out from his gut to the rest of his body, like he’s an upturned teacup, spilling everywhere. Something wet and hot wriggly against his dick, and a red bulge is twirling around his dick, and when his dream self looks down, there definitely is a bulge wrapped around it, teasing at his head.

“Aah.... Karkat....” He’s being fucked, he thinks wondrously to himself, and when he thinks about it, there’s a definite motion, so subtle he didn’t notice at first, heat pushing in and out of him, lovingly. This is the most vivid dream he’s had. They’re in bed, silk sheets engulfing them, painting the walls with shimmer. His ribcage opens up, and a familiar, freckled hand reaches him and soothes over his heart, digs in and puts a guarding hand over it. He whimpers. 

So good... This shouldn't really be allowed, should it?

He vibrates, but realizes it’s a voice, soft but deep, murmuring, resonating inside him. A moan. 

He’s snapped into limbo again, and the difference makes him react. Hmm, the hands are still there... Feels good. So good and warm, so arousing. Is he asleep? He relishes in the touches, moaning out when it doesn’t go away the moment he focuses on it, questions it. The most vivid dream he’s had in a long time.... He doesn’t want to wake up. 

It continues, and slowly, he realizes he’s waking up. The sensation doesn’t go away, only heightens, and Dirk lets out a soft “Wha...?” 

A soothing voice answers him again, and he’s calmed. But he’s still waking up. He waits for the sensations to stop, to waver and dissipate. 

When his eyes open, he looks into Dave’s neck. It’s slick with his spit and tears. He breathes in sharply, eyes widening, his hands clenching the sweater between his fists weakly, his legs trying to close, but they’re held open. 

Shocked into movement, he turns his head so he can look down on himself— Karkat. Oh, thank god-

Karkat..? “Muuhh, Kar...?” Hands move over his lower abdomen, familiar and scarred and freckled. “Dave...?” More soft shushes, hot into his ear, breathy huffs into his ears making him shiver. 

“Shhh sugarcube... You awake, baby..? Shh, you’re okay... Do you feel me inside you...?” A hand presses down on his abdomen, and he whimpers, nodding weakly. Yeah, he can feel it now, Dave jostling them both a little with careful thrusts, splitting him open and carving him out. The sounds are muffled, and his knees twitch again. Karkat is looking at him, eyes big, pupils huge. “Y- yeeaahh....” His throat feels raw. Has he been moaning..? 

“nnnhh, where.... haa...” He’s panting. He’s slow at realizing the position he’s in, how this all is put together. It’s like he’s still dreaming, and when he tries to move his legs, he finds he can’t. They feel like lead. “Dave...” 

Dave can feel the need for reassurance, kisses down Dirk’s neck, murmuring softly, “just wanted to love on you more, sugarcube... Wanted to see my sugarcube melt....” Dirk whines, but nods- that makes sense.... 

Oh, right... The movie marathon. Karkat sitting next to... now on the floor- mouth close to him-, “Mmmhh, Karkat, what ‘you....?” He moans, and is then shocked at himself: loud enough he feels his chest vibrate a little, and he gasps. Dave struck home against his prostate, “Aahhn-....” He clutches at his sweater harder, face red as a tomato, completely blanking- he just knows it feels  _ good. _

Karkat’s heart  _ slams _ in his chest as he watches consciousness slowly wash over Dirk. Dave coos at him, and he scrambles for words, muttering their names and seeming to be at a complete loss. It’s cute and amazing and Dave seems to think the same thing, because he’s biting his lip and nuzzling Dirk so sweetly,  _ god. _

It’s all just so fucking sweet, isn’t it?

Adrenaline pounds through Dave’s veins, the rush of having Dirk wake up like this making him feel all kinds of ways he never has before. It’s thrilling, it’s hot, it’s so fucking sexy, Dirk is  _ so sexy. _ “You’re just so sweet, aren’t you…” he murmurs. He brings one arm up to wrap comfortingly around DIrk’s chest, uses the other to find Dirk’s hand and squeeze.

Usually, Dave could last a lot longer than this. Hell, he just  _ did _ last a lot longer than this, but the excitement of it all is getting to him quickly. Dirk’s helpless whines, and Karkat down between their legs, and the way Dirk’s fucked out hole twitches uselessly around his cock, it’s  _ getting to him. _

“Karkat,” he says, with another reassuring squeeze to Dirk’s hand. “How close are you?”

Karkat doesn’t answer at first. He’s too busy lapping up Dirk’s  _ shocking _ amount of pre. It’s not common for Dirk to cum more than once. So the fact that he’s leaking so much is… erotic beyond words. Karkat himself is dripping all over the floor and down his own thighs.

Hazily, Karkat tears his eyes away from Dirk to look at Dave again. “Pretty close,” he rasps, and then immediately his mouth is on Dirk again. A moan, an indulgent suck, a rub of his knuckles, a twitch. “I’d say he’s pretty close too… He’s getting tight.”

“Hmm…” Dave lets the arm around Dirk fall, pushes his hand up under his sweater to feel the muscles tightening and flexing under his palm. His skin is hot, he’s shaking, Dave wants to eat him whole. He keeps rocking his hips slowly, perfectly, so fucking good. He imagines he can feel himself in Dirk’s stomach.

He lets a few moments pass, with nothing but their panted breaths and Dirk’s whines to fill the silence. It builds up inside him, thick in the air, his balls pulling tight as he thrusts into Dirk again and Dirk clenches around him.

Karkat’s breath catches, a hot wave of arousal flooding through him, threatening to flood  _ out _ of him.  _ ”Dave,” _ he pleads, “when…?”

God, Karkat really is begging him to come, isn't he..

Dave keeps their gaze locked, even when he kisses at Dirk consolingly, hand splayed possessively over Dirk's chest, pushing the sweater up so Karkat gets an even better view of Dirk's flushed skin 

A part of him wants to keep Karkat waiting, keep him there until he can't help it he just has to force his knuckle against his beautiful nook and make himself come. He wants to wait until Dirk comes, make it so that all three are gonna come at the same time. 

But God, he is so close himself. He's not going to be able to wait. "Soon.." It comes out as a groan, and he pushes and prods at a sensitive nipple, making more pre pump out. Witnessing Karkat so eagerly lapping it up makes his dick  _ hurt.  _

"'m going to come inside you now, okay...?" 

Dirk is still a little hazy when it comes to the details here. 

His dick is hard. Dave is fucking into him, so gently and slowly it feels like he's just massaging him from the inside, trying to feel his dick by pushing down on his lower abdomen. Karkat is between then, lapping at his cock like the kitten he is (Tiger? Kitten? Tiger?), pleading so sweetly with Dave.

Didn't know he could do that. 

_ "Ahhhnn...."  _ Again, he's a little shocked at himself as another desperate moan rips itself out of him. It's like he has  _ no _ actual control of his vocal chords, like he's been drugged. 

Something in him is clenched, in his chest, making his shoulders hunch up a little. He tries feebly to keep his dumb mouth shut, but there literally is no use. With every minuscule shift of Dave's hips, he's mewling like a cheap whore. 

"Haa---... Da-.. ave-...." Sinfully, he squeezes down on Dave's cock, and Dave responds by bucking his hips up hard; it makes him see  _ stars, _ it feels so good to get something rough after so much soft. 

"Shit-.." Dave is struggling, the blissed out, hungry look on Dirk's face enough to make any man's dick about to blow, and he already has Karkat's pleading look pinning his. 

His hips move faster, harder now that he can but still far from the pistoning he'd usually do at this point. It makes Dirk choke on his own breath, makes him clench down the best he can, though it's pitifully weak (so hot, it's so hot that he can't clench down properly, that he's that well used-), and Dave cooes nonsensically into his ear. 

He manages for longer than he thought; it's only when Karkat's eyes briefly cross that he feels the coil in his gut is about to snap- 

"Now--  _ Karkat _ ugh, now, come now-" Dave bites on Dirk's shoulder, eyes still locked on his favourite troll as he fucks his come deep into Dirk, suckling on the skin in his mouth firmly. Red gushes all over the floor, and he  _ knows _ he ordered Karkat to come, and he did. 

Shit, the powertrip is out of this world. He might never land.

Karkat cums, and it’s good, but it feels like it’s only ramping up to something bigger as his eyes eagerly take in Dirk’s desperate, fucked out, uncontrolled body. He’s just… so open, so vulnerable, Karkat can’t fucking wait to dig in and  _ keep pushing _ and see what fucking happens.

He’s never pushed Dirk like this on his own before. He’s pushed him, but this is  _ different. _

“Dave,” he starts, breathless as he sits up properly on his knees, face moving up Dirk’s stomach, staying close. “Can you go again? Now? Without stopping?” His voice is hungry, demanding. His eyes are locked firmly on Dave’s now.

Dave swallows, his own eyes fluttering as his orgasm leaves him feeling tingly and buzzing. His heart is pounding as he realizes that… Dirk hasn’t cum yet. Maybe he should make sure that Dirk is okay. Ask his colours, if he can even talk. What if he can’t talk? Fuck, he didn’t think this far ahead.

He tries to focus on Karkat’s question. Can he keep going? Wasn’t Karkat supposed to fuck Dirk next? He gives a little nod; his dick hasn’t gone soft yet, but three times is pushing it for him. “Why?” he asks.

Karkat’s grin is downright  _ devilish. _ “Do you think he can take us both at the same time?” he asks. He’s got both hands wrapped around Dirk’s hips, holding him, thumbing over them absently. He digs the tips of his claws in, more out of habit than anything else. A desire to possess Dirk, to  _ keep him. _

Looking down at Karkat is like looking at a ravenous beast, and Dirk squeezes Dave's hand a little, making sure he's still there. He sees Karkat's mouth move in real time, can see how his gaze doesn't even flicker to meet his own, but he can't catch what he says. There is a genuine wash of relief in him when Dave answers. 

Finally, when Dave's cock isn't pumping come into him quite as hard, he's able to puzzle together what Karkat is asking. 

If he can tan take both...? His skin prickles where Karkat's hands touch him, and oh, claws. Hmm...

Dirk tries to think if he's able to take more. He definitely can't move his legs, he hasn't tried moving his hands much. He's not sure how Karkat is suggesting they do a threesome right now, and he's not sure he cares. His mind keeps drifting dangerously, if not into sleep then into somewhere soft and blank, uninterested in words. 

His dick is still aching though. He still hasn't come. It's a desperate ache in him, fed to him while he was asleep, and the more awake he becomes, the more he feels he needs relief. 

Does he need it, though...? 

Nah... but if Karkat wants him, he won't say no. 

Dave looks down to Dirk, seeing how his face passes through a single emotion at a time. Confusion, probably not getting what's going on. Relief; Dave's here. Thoughtful. Loving. Relaxed again. 

"Colours, Sugarcube...?" It's a whisper against his Dirk's ear, and he shivers. 

Colour... What was...? 

"Uhh..?" -- oh. He giggles a little nervously as he remembers- he's not sure if he would have thought of it had Dave not mentioned it. Dirk nods. 

Yeah totally. Go, anything Dave wants, it's his. His cock is still full, twitching when Karkat's breath washes over it.

Whatever they want. His body can probably handle it, and Dave will make sure it does. There's no doubt in his mind that he is safe here, suspended and used by his two favourite people.

Dave’s blood runs cold when Dirk doesn’t respond. The little nod Dirk gives is something, but it’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough. Dirk squeezes his hand, too, but it’s weak, and oh god, did he fuck this up? Is Dirk okay? He should be more awake than this by now, right?

Karkat raises an eyebrow, too. He knows that this is much further than he’s ever seen Dirk go before, and maybe it’s selfish to assume that he would be able to keep going. Still, he doesn’t want it to be over so soon.

“Dirk,” Dave says, softly but firmly. He squeezes Dirk’s hand and lifts his other to Dirk’s chin, turning him up until Dirk’s unfocused eyes finally manage to meet his own. “Dirk, I need you to tell me you’re okay. With your words. Can you keep going?”

Karkat digs his nails in more firmly before flexing his hands, grabbing onto Dirk without pulling him away from Dave. It’s a possessive motion, one he thinks will be encouraging. “Of course he can keep going, he didn’t even cum yet. Do you think he’s weak or--”

_ “Karkat,” _ Dave snaps, and Karkat shuts right the fuck up as Dave’s eyes turn on him. “Not now. Don’t say shit like that, what’s the matter with you?” Dave narrows his eyes, and for the first time, he’s actually kind of mad at Karkat. What the hell would make him think saying something like that right now was okay?

Dave frowns at Karkat for another moment before forcibly softening his features and looking in Dirk’s eyes again. “It’s okay if you can’t keep going, sugar cube. It’s not weak. You’re doing so well, you’re so good for us. Perfect. Tell me what you need now. What do you want? It’s okay. There’s no wrong answers.” 

His fingers stroke gently along Dirk’s jaw as he speaks. His own cock is starting to soften a bit with the change in mood, and usually that would hurt, to still be inside Dirk, but his hole is really just so fucked open and sloppy, it’s comfortable. He wonders if it’s a comfort to Dirk, or a pain.

Karkat doesn’t more or say anything as Dave tries to talk to Dirk. He’s never been the subject of Dave’s actual anger before, or at least not often, and he feels bad about what he said. 

Dirk blinks when Dave calls on him again, pulling him away from that deep, quiet place. His head is being tilted back, and orange meets red. It takes a little while to focus, but he gives Dave a carefree little smile. It feels good to see Dave again, as weird as that might sound. 

"hm-..." His thoughts are interrupted by firm hands squeezing at his sides, and he moves his gaze away from Dave's to try to look down at Karkat- he still looks hungry. 

Yeah, he can keep going, he thinks to himself, and he didn't come, Karkat's right-... 

Oh.. 

_ Weak.  _

Is he weak for .. being like this? Does Dave think he's weak? Dirk can't be weak when he has to take care of D-

He jumps when Dave's voice cuts off his train of thought, and he squeezes his hand hard in surprise. Oh. Dave's mad. Dirk's smile dies completely.

Is this not okay? 

When Dirk and Dave's eyes meet again, he's afraid they'll be cold, but they're not. They're soft and warm and candy-apple-red, and he breathes out a little in relief. A small, awake part in him tells him he's being ridiculous, but it doesn't stop him from feeling what he's feeling. He relaxes back against Dave's chest, letting softer words wash over him.

Yeah, he's okay... Dave doesn't think he's weak at all, he told him as much before. He didn't do anything wrong, he's fine. Dave is just asking for his colour. Gentle soothing touches lets him slip back into where his starting muscle-aches melts away, or at least is a pleasant throb, and he blinks slowly, mulling over the words like he's sucking on a drop in his mouth. 

But he already knows; this feels too good to  _ want _ to stop. 

"m'green... Promise." He refrains asking if Dave thinks he's weak. He personally feels he's actually pretty strong right now, though he can't pinpoint why. Just soft words that sound like it's said in Dave's voice telling him this is good, that he's perfect.

And he doesn't want to ruin the mood. 

He gives Dave a little kiss, closing his eyes, taking a breath in that seems to pull apart that little tension that was built in his chest. He focuses on his dick, if not as rock hard as he was, it's still straining, his ass warm and full, his face flushed, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. 

Yeah.... He wants more. "Want you.." Want them to want him. Want them to feel good. 

"Want to feel good."  _ He _ wants to feel good. To feel them fuck him, feel how they make his body light up with pleasure.

“You feel good, sugar cube…?” Dave asks carefully. He feels like he might be over-using the pet name, but also has a feeling that it might be something Dirk needs to hear. Something grounding to let him know he’s really okay and Dave still loves him.

Karkat swallows the lump in his throat that had been forming as he watches Dave give Dirk a kiss. He almost fucked this up, he  _ saw _ the fear in Dirk’s eyes before Dave so expertely washed it away.

He remembers the last time he was here with Dirk. How it escalated, and got so bad he thought they were going to break up over it. It was ugly, and felt like there was no way out, and it just kept getting worse and worse until he was crying, but-

But Dave let it dissolve, just like that. He knew exactly when to step in and what to say. And Dirk looks so sweet and so soft all over again, and Karkat knows that this is okay. It’s okay. It’s almost not fair for Dave to be such a good moirail and such a perfect auspistice at the same time, but he’s thankful for it.

God, he loves them both.

“‘m gonna open you up some more, okay?” Dave says. He kisses the side of Dirk’s face over and over as he slides a hand down between them again. The fit between their bodies is tighter than the fit of his finger as it slips easily inside Dirk, and Dave’s eyes meet Karkat’s with a dazed heaviness. It’s unbelievable, it’s disgustingly hot that he can finger alongside his cock so easily; Dirk is all but  _ ruined. _

And okay, even though Dirk just gave them the green light, maybe they should stop after this. If Dirk is this messy now, there’s no way he’s going to survive the third movie, let alone the rest of the second. This might even be pushing it.

“...I think he’s more than ready,” Dave breathes, still watching Karkat.

Karkat takes his cue and finally stands up the rest of the way. He holds Dirk around the waist and murmurs an “easy…” to try and keep it soft as he lifts the guy up. Climbing onto the couch and under Dirk is a little clumsy, but he ends up exactly where he wants to be, with his ass between Dave’s legs and his legs wrapped around Dave’s back.

With Dirk still lifted, Karkat’s bulge wraps eagerly around Dave’s dick, happy to finally have some attention. It squeezes and pulses and Dave catches a breath, easily hardening back up for the third time.

Karkat’s got his arms wrapped all the way around Dirk now, chest to chest, and he’s slowly lowering him back down. “Both at once, or…” he asks Dave. He doesn’t  _ want _ to pull his bulge away from Dave’s cock, but Dave is the one running this show, right? And if he wants Dirk to take them one at a time, then Karkat can wait.

Not for long, but  _ he can wait. _

"-- yeahh..." Dirk pushes the words out, mostly because he doesn't feel like talking, "'feel good, Davey..." He'll ask the questions later, the ones that fill his chest with bubbly warmth- did Dave plan this..? Did he make Dirk cockwarm him in his sleep..? How did reality correspond to his dream..? 

They're all delicious questions he wants to purr into Dave's ear later, when they're all entangled and exhausted. He doesn't need to know right now, though, and he's not sure if he'll be able to appreciate the answers at the moment cause he feels a finger slip in inside him, and he gives them a broken little  _ 'ah'. _ He can barely make himself clench on it- or, he  _ thinks _ he can clench a little on it...? 

_ "Uhnngh.." _ Sloppy lube and come spill out of him when Karkat lifts him, and he's happy to note he can still move his arms; enough to let his elbows lift and then fall on Karkat's shoulders, and he hangs his head and  _ shivers. _ He feels so  _ empty. _

Dave takes in how Karkat's arms bulge at the strain with appreciation, moaning as his bulge squeezes firmly around him. It's twisted around him like a god damned snake, starting at the root and wrapping its way up to his tip, and he feels wet drip down his balls from where Karkat ground against him while he was settling in his lap.

He helps getting Dirk's legs positioned comfortably, and he feels his head poking at Dirk's wet, soft hole. 

"Both... Just go slow, let him feel it out..." 

Dirk is  _ sure _ there is nothing to feel out, and he whines and hugs Karkat a little firmer, still horribly weak, like he's just woken up. 

Which he has.

"Karkat..." He's trying to grind, to fuck himself down on them, but he just  _ can't. _ Even without Karkat holding him tight, suspended over their dicks, he can  _ feel _ his legs are useless. He's completely at their mercy. 

Feeling himself lower onto them is like impaling himself on a long, thick, ridged plug. He can feel where he has to stretch more to accommodate the troll, and their combined girth has him moaning out uncertainly; but then they're in, a squelch as Karkat lets him settle more weight onto them both, and he groans a little, leaning back so he can lock eyes with Karkat, fuckdrunk and awed. 

"-you're both insi-ide of me-..."

“Fuck, we  _ are--” _

_ ”Yeah, _ we are--”

It’s a tight fit (thank  _ god _ it’s still tight, at least around the two of them) and it’s like nothing either of them have felt before. For Dave, with Karkat’s bulge being forced to hug him even tighter, with Dirk’s walls rubbing him in between the coils. For Karkat, being squeezed from every possible direction, the friction of Dirk’s hole moving over them.

It’s stupid, how fucking hot it is, and the look Dirk is giving Karkat,  _ fuck, _ he never wants Dirk to look anywhere else.

Karkat kisses Dirk, open-mouthed and just as wet and sloppy as Dirk’s hole is. He keeps Dirk still for a while, while he kisses him dirty, and Dave kisses him over his back and shoulders, and they’re touching Dirk all over, damn, everything is happening in a daze, like they’re suspended in a pool of thick jelly.

When Karkat can’t take it anymore, he mutters a,  _ ”I fucking love you,” _ against Dirk’s lips and grabs him by the hips again. He lifts Dirk, sliding him off their knot of dick and bulge, and then drops him back down with a heavy groan.

“Holy fucking shit,” Dave chokes, his own hold on Dirk going tight.  _ “Like a fucking fleshlight--” _ he says, like he can’t believe his own eyes. Hot arousal spreads from his stomach and lights him on fire. “How are you this fucking hot? Both of you… fuck.  _ Goddamnit.” _

In the back of Karkat’s mind, he thinks that starting to work out with Dave was one of the best decisions he ever made. Both his boyfriends can’t get enough of how strong he’s gotten, and he feels a little insecure about how small he used to be now-- but now’s not the time for that.

“‘s’not that heavy,” he says. And it does feel pretty fucking good to be able to have Dirk any way he wants. He can literally throw him around, if he wants to. Not that he wants to do that. Using him like this is pretty fucking good though.

He rocks his hips once, his bulge sliding up Dave’s dick and into Dirk at the same time, and  _ fuck _ that’s nice. If Dave’s strained moan is anything to go by, he thinks it’s nice too.

Dave is quick to get lost in it; he’s  _ sensitive _ now, after spending so long being buried inside Dirk and not moving. Every little movement now lights him up, pushes him closer and closer to his  _ third _ orgasm. He’s not going to last much longer at this rate, but he does pull himself together a bit for Dirk’s sake.

He’s still got his arms wrapped around Dirk, and he lets one hand smoothe down his front. “How you feeling, sugar cube?” he asks, while petting Dirk’s stomach. “You gonna cum for us?”

Dirk is pretty sure he's never felt like this in his  _ life.  _

He can feel, intimately, how Karkat's bulge is pulsing and contracting, shifting inside him like an alive thing. The two of them are so big together he feels like he  _ should _ be feeling pain, but there is none. It's a stretch, sure, but it's  _ good. _

It's like drowning, the immense amount of attention put on him. A hot tongue is curling in his mouth, and soft kisses are like little flames pressed against his back and shoulder. He swallows heavily into their kiss, feeling drool drip down his chin. He feels  _ plundered, _ and he's never been more happy for it. 

"'-- love you-" he's only partway done with the 'too' when Karkat lifts and drops him, and Dirk  _ shouts _ as he's impaled on their combined lengths again- his whole body arches, his voice keening as his ass tries processing how that felt. He only knows it felt  _ heavenly.  _

He's like a  _ fleshlight... _ Something in him goes soft and warm and drippy, and he nods, eyes crossing a little as he focuses on the way the root of Karkat's bulge frenches at his rim, desperate to join inside. Being used like a toy, a nice, hot toy, a nice hole to fuck.

_ "Ghhhh..." _ His teeth are gritted, his moan coming out gurgled as Karkat forces himself in deeper, and his breath hitches on the way in. So much. so much, so  _ good, _ he can take it like the good toy he is... 

"Y--yeah--" Dave is feeling for the bulge on his stomach, he's sure of it. Feeling how stretched out his toy is. "yeah'm gggh.... gonna come-.." It's inevitable. He has come and lube and genmat sloshing inside of him, his hole is so spent it's just given up, and he's starting to slip. 

"Please," He's not sure who he's asking; either of them, "to-ouch my cock, please-" his words are muffled by Karkat's lips; another hitchy breath in, his upper body jumping as Karkat's bulge slithers over his prostate, then he moans out a sob, "use me-... Fu-uchk, use my hole, c-come inside me-" 

Dave raises his eyebrows at the same time he feels his face light up. He's heard Dirk dirty-talk before, it's practically his staple, but he hasn't heard... His subby dirty-talk. He's definitely enjoying himself though, or those beautiful, sinfully soft mewls he can hear wouldn't be so frequent, if there at all. 

Dave slides his hand down to cup Dirk's cock and balls again, then gripping around his shaft, giving him a slow stroke. 

It drives Dirk  _ wild. _ He tries to buck his hips but it doesn't work, he tries to move his arms down but nah, they're good where they are it seems. "OH fuck oh fuck faster-  _ please _ faster oh  _ god-" _ It's  _ torture, _ Dave is torturing him- "can't, Davey, 'll be good-" 

When Dirk comes he  _ shouts, _ and when they keep fucking him, he sobs, only begging them to fuck into him deeper. 

He feels like the best toy in the world.

Hearing Dirk beg for it, watching his body bend and shake as he breaks apart, it’s something that makes Karkat’s fucking mouth water. He can  _ feel _ Dirk unraveling in his hands, and he lifts Dirk away from his body to watch as he cums. He’s not surprised to see that nothing really comes out.

Dave hugs Dirk even harder as Karkat lifts and pushes Dirk toward him. He lavishes Dirk’s throat with open mouthed kisses and sucks at the flesh. He hums approvingly, squeezing Dirk’s cock as he cums. 

“So fucking good for us, Dirk, you’re amazing,” he’s saying, an endless stream of praises all slurred together as empathetic pleasure off Dirk’s orgasm fuels his own. A hard shiver runs up and down Dave’s spine as he hits his third climax, and his is just about as dry as Dirk’s was.

Karkat can feel it, though. Just the smallest bit of hot cream coating his bulge inside Dirk. As if Dirk’s hold could get any sloppier…

Karkat grits his teeth and doesn’t stop. He keeps fucking Dirk down onto both their cocks because he’s not

quite

there yet

And Dave is still murmuring praises in Dirk’s ear, “so good, baby, my sweetest sugar cube-” and kissing his neck, his ear, holding him, slipping. Karkat can hear this way his voice shakes, knows he’s being pushed just a bit too far. His dick probably aches with overstim, but he’s almost there, just a little more…

Dave puts a hand over his, stroking trembling fingers over the back of it before wrapping around his wrist in an obscenely intimate gesture- and that’s what finally does it.

Karkat spills between the three of them with a long moan, letting Dirk sink down on them fully while he grabs at Dave’s hand. He fits their fingers together and squeezes as his orgasm shakes him. With his free arm, he wraps all the way around Dirk and to Dave, pulling all three of them close as the last drips of genmat seep between them.

He sits there, panting and holding his boys close for a long moment before his body finally catches up to the fact that this is over. His bulge slowly slips away and back inside him, and he kisses Dave, then Dirk, then down Dirk’s neck because he still can’t get enough.

Dirk is pushes back, and when his neck is attacked again, he can't keep his head up; he lets it loll back onto Dave's shoulder, chest heaving and hands sliding down Karkat's pecs, eyes rolling up and then closing. 

His body is shocked into silence as Karkat keeps driving them both into him, fresh tears spilling over his waterline at the intense feeling. He's so  _ full, _ his ass so raw each drop down has him grunting out a little sob. 

And then.. They stop. There's both relief and disappointment in Dirk, swirling together to a masochistic want. His breath is struggling to calm, and he's still spilling out soft little mewls, phantom clenches of his hole. 

Dave kisses Karkat lovingly, sighing and stroking his thumb over Karkat's hand, elated by the knowledge that Karkat came for him, came  _ because _ of him. He shivers as Karkat's bulge retracts, Dirk's hole almost seeming too big now without the extra girth. It sends a shiver down to his gut: he wonders what it looks like, all sloppy and dripping.. 

He sees how easy it is for Karkat to lick his tongue into Dirk's mouth, how his kisses trail down his throat, how Dirk is so dazed and shivering he can't seem to quite process it's over, how he's  _ gasping _ for breath, soaked in sweat and their combined fluids. 

Yeah, Dirk is one hundred percent out of commission. He lets Dirk go lax against him again, murmuring Karkat's name so he'll sit upright again and kiss him again. It starts off sloppy, but Dave reels it in to something slower, gentler. He swirls their tongues together lazily, deeply, like they always do during long makeouts, sighing and squinting just enough that he can lock gazes with his favourite troll. 

So hot. 

"God, you're perfect, you're both so perfect, I love you...."

Dirk nods dazedly, finding he's having a very hard time holding his eyes open; they're lead, and opening them doesn't help the blurriness from his tears. He can hear Dave and Karkat kissing, and he sniffles. That's so fucking nice. Having them both squished against him, their warmth soaking into him... It's luxury, makes the dreamy aches in him throb pleasantly.

Eventually they manage to pull themselves apart. Dave can mostly take care of himself, which is great, because Karkat has his hands full trying to get Dirk taken care of. The guy is nothing but dead weight as The other two try to get him cleaned up and into a fresh set of clothes.

Karkat’s even nice enough to get Dirk a new one of  _ his _ sweaters. Since the last one ended up kind of… gross. It might end up being too hot for Dirk to sleep in, but at least he’ll be comfortably for now. Karkat definitely understand the comfort in wearing his boyfriend’s clothes. He’s thought about it  _ often _ since he’s gotten bulkier in these last few weeks, that he’s a little upset he can’t wear Dirk’s clothes anymore.

It feels almost as good to see Dirk in his. It’s not the same, but it’s cute nonetheless.

They settle into bed together (Dirk’s bed, to be specific, because his is the biggest) and Karkat and Dave each wrap around Dirk from both sides. Karkat’s spooned up against Dirk’s back and Dave is buried against his front.

It’s peaceful, and quiet, and perfect.


	17. Dirk/Dave+Dirk/Karkat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk comes down off the marathon. It's a little bit of a struggle.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE:  
> There is a flashback included in this chapter, that has been posted separately for more extreme CWs. It is NOT necessary to read to continue following the story, if the content is something you can not handle. Click the link at your own risk.

Karkat doesn’t even notice that he’s dozed off until he’s blinking his eyes open and he’s got his back to the other two. His back is still pressed against Dirk’s back. It’s warm, and it feels nice to still be close to them. He realizes that none of them ever had dinner, but he doesn’t want to ruin this moment. He could probably afford to fall asleep again for another few hours. God knows, Dirk needs it.

Getting clean and ready for bed is more of a dream than a blur. It's not before Dirk is all wrapped up in two boyfriends, a cool pillow against his cheek and a thin cover over the three of them that he really manages to focus his eyes on anything in particular. 

He _aches._ As his muscles cool down, stiffness sets in, and he _knows_ it's going to be hell tomorrow. If not for the next couple of days. 

It was 100% absolutely worth it. 

Dave keeps his mind blank and pliant with golden honeyed words, and he feels Karkat's breath deepen with sleep against his back. He feels _whole._

He interrupts another bout of praises against his ear with a soft kiss to Dave's cheek, blinking slowly when he tries to wrap a leg around Dave but only gives him a little kick. 

Welp, that's gonna be fun. 

"mm, sorry." He kisses Dave again, his smile coy and flirtatious. "... mm... did you plan on taking me like that while I was asleep..?" His voice is a whisper, so he won't wake Karkat up. "I was... dreaming... Dreamt there were hands all over me... Dreamt Karkat had his bulge around my dick. Was that real...?" 

Laying like this feels so heartachingly intimate, his voice won't raise more than a croaky little murmur. Dave's made sure he's gotten plenty of water in him, but he's been _loud._ Louder than he's probably been in... years. Years on years. 

"Did I make a lot of sound...? Gotta know everythin', Davey..."

He jumps a little as he feels Karkat moving, but he's just turning around, completely off to dreamland. Cute. He probably needs it. 

Orange meets red again, expectantly. There's still a clever little smirk on his hips, easy and genuine.

Karkat’s half asleep, listening to the two of them talk. It’s cute, how disgustingly soft and pale the two of them are. It stabs another sharp pang of loneliness into his heart, but he shakes it off _immediately._ He’s fine, he doesn’t need a diamond to be complete.

Unaware that Karkat is awake, Dave gives a breathless little laugh, quiet, easy, as Dirk barrages him with questions. He gives Dirk a cute little peck on the lips and a smile before he says anything.

“I didn’t necessarily plan any of it… I probably woulda sat there and just watched the movie, if you didn’t start kissing on me…”

Okay, maybe that’s not 100% true. He would have ended up smooching on Dirk at some point regardless.

“I was Going to let you sleep through the second one… But then _Karkat_ started kissing on me, and I guess I can’t resist either one of you. One thing led to another… I remembered you saying it was something you wanted to try. So I just did it.”

His fingers move in small, comforting circles over Dirk’s skin, tucked up under his sweater.

“Wasn’t his bulge on you, it was his mouth. For a guy who can’t _actually_ suck a dick, he does a pretty good job of it, right? And he looks so good on his knees…”

Karkat smiles to himself, without turning around.

Dave continues. “You were pretty vocal, for sure. Not super loud, just… noisey. Cute. ...I can’t believe how long it took you to wake up.”

Dirk chuckles a little as well, biting his lower lip, remembering how beautiful Karkat was between their legs, how heated his gaze was. "It felt so damned good... 've never been more horny'n when I got together with'im..." 

He smiles, thinking back on the warm, firm hands on his hips, Karkat's demanding yet pleading voice. 

Asking Dave if he thought Dirk was weak. 

His smile slips a little, and he breaks the eye contact, expression far away. A small wrinkle folds itself into existence between his brows, almost not there. 

[ Dirk proceeds to have this flashback. Be **EXTREMELY CAREFUL** if you choose to click this link. It details a flashback of Dirk’s past with Bro. CW: pedophilia, sexual abuse, child abuse, verbal abuse. Proceed with caution. >> [link](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23895085) ]

Not sure if he should ask, but knowing it would bother him to let the question sit and rot, he makes a small little 'hmm' and puts a hand to Dave's chest. 

.... 

Fuck. It's stuck in his throat. He wets his lips, glancing up to meet Dave's asking eyes, looks down again to his hand. Well, there goes being casual. It's suddenly very serious, even though he wanted to throw it in there with the other questions. 

He nuzzles in his pillow to gain some time, forcibly relaxing his muscles, slipping his eyes shut for a moment, cold gripping his throat, his heart beating faster. 

"... am I weak, Dave..?" 

Fuck, he's so weak. God damnit, it's so obvious. If he has to ask that question the answer is obvious. He can't even look Dave in the eyes. Familiar shame manifests in his stomach, hard and cold. He really should be over this by now. 

He really should be better than this by now.

Dave’s heart sinks as he watches the smile fall from Dirk’s face. The question Dirk asks is superficially simple, but anyone with eyes could see that it’s _not_ that simple.

There’s something there. Something unfathomably ugly, that Dave doesn’t want to know about. Something Dave has the _luxury_ of not wanting to know about, while Dirk doesn’t have a choice. Dirk is forced to remember, and Dave has to be here for him now.

“Of course not, Dirk,” he breathes, and the breathlessness it carries is more desperate than dreamy. “Never. You’re perfect the way you are. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He lifts a hand to cover the one on his chest. He presses Dirk’s hand over his heart, wondering if he can feel just how hard it’s beating.

Karkat furrows his brows as he listens to the conversation take a turn. The topic shakes the sleep off of him, and suddenly he’s paying very close attention. He knows why Dirk is asking, because Karkat _said it._ Was it really that big of a mistake? He thought Dave handled it pretty well at the time… He never would have expected it to still be affecting Dirk.

Hell, Karkat has said much worse to him for less. Maybe it’s situational?

He keeps listening. He hopes to god he didn’t fuck this up just like he did the last time. He thought he had gotten _better_ at handling Dirk’s vulnerabilities.

“Don’t let anything that bastard said get to you,” Dave continues, and Karkat goes stiff, assuming it’s about him.

Dave, of course, is not talking about Karkat. “You’re okay. And I love you, and Karkat loves you, and you’re _safe._ Okay?” He’s still whispering, but his tone is more firm and solid. He’s looking directly into Dirk’s eyes, even if Dirk isn’t looking back at him.

Dirk keeps looking at his own hand, seeing Daves' on top of it. He can feel Dave's eyes, his candy-apple-red enticing him to lock gazes, but he... Can't. 

He swallows carefully. 

".... he-.." He shakes his head a little, flinching away from the subject like someone flinching back from a turned on stove. It's instinctive; they _don't talk about it._ He never wants to talk about it, ever. 

Except... he kind of does, now. Just to explain, even though he's sure Dave understands. 

"Just.." another swallow. It feels weird, to suddenly talk about it. It feels like a crime. "'wasn't the Strider way. Likin' it." He feels a little lightheaded, but that could be from strenuous fucking, and not what it used to be. 

"He never wanted me to like it. 'was weak. Givin' in, like." Dirk shakes his head a little, taking a quick breath through his nose. 

"Fuck. Forget it. Don't wanna-... this isn't the-..." He presses his lips together, meeting Dave's eyes. There's sick fear there, a need to know for _certain._

"... but it's.... you don't.. Mind..?"

Karkat is _positive_ they’re talking about him, until Dirk says something that doesn’t make any sense. When did Karkat ever say that Dirk shouldn’t like it?

The answer is: he didn’t. And suddenly Karkat feels like he’s missing a pretty big fucking piece of this story. He’s only vaguely aware that something bad happened to Dirk a long time ago. It was briefly mentioned to him, after that time Dirk ran away all those months ago, and then never brought up again. Maybe this isn’t a conversation he should be listening to. Is he not supposed to know?

...does Dirk not trust him enough to tell him? His thoughts muddle and spiral between confusion and hurt and concern and too many other things, and he tries his best to stay still as he continues to listen. It would be bad if they realized he was awake now.

It breaks Dave’s fucking heart, to see the pain and the fear on Dirk’s face. He pulls himself closer, to press his forehead gently into Dirk’s. The proximity grants Dirk the mercy of not having to make eye contact, while being just as emotionally close.

Dave knows what happened. He should know more than he does, considering he was _there,_ but the details aren’t there. Dirk has never wanted to tell him the details, and that’s fine. Dave doesn’t need to know, if Dirk doesn’t want to say. 

But now he’s _saying…_ and it makes Dave sick to his fucking stomach. 

“What is there for me to mind?” he asks. “You’re allowed to enjoy it. You’re allowed to not enjoy it. You’re entitled to your own feelings, Dirk…” He’s not sure if he’s saying the right things, or if ‘the right thing’ is even a thing that exists to be said. “He was wrong about you. And he’s wrong about Striders. He’s the one that doesn’t fit in with us, right? That bastard isn’t a Strider, he’s nothing. And you’re mine. And you’re amazing and I love you.”

He’s trying _damn hard_ not to let his voice crack while he speaks. He wishes there were a button he could push to make Dirk stop hurting, but there isn’t. He hopes Dirk _knows_ how much he honestly loves him.

Dirk visibly grits his teeth together, more to keep his chin from wobbling than anything else. 

It's such a _relief_ to hear, from Dave's own mouth, that he's ok. That he didn't do it wrong, didn't fuck it up. That Dave's not taunting him for enjoying it. The logical part of his brain knows, of _course._

Dave would never do that. He would _never._ Dave would cry himself to sleep if he knew something he said had hurt Dirk. 

Still, that young, terrorized part in him fears. Guards itself so thoroughly he can pretend it's not even there, usually. Letting that part of him relax feels like putting down a glass of water he's been holding for years. 

"-okay." It comes out a whisper. He nods a little, their foreheads rubbing together a little. 

"... I'm glad you don't remember..." His voice twists with something raw and bitter, "I still...." his brows scrunches up more, and he didn't know he even had enough liquid left in him to cry, but his eyes are wet anyway, damnit, "sometimes I still-... fuck." 

He rubs his hand up and down Dave's chest a little, soothing himself with the feel of Dave's skin rubbing against his own. He chokes down the sounds he wants to make ruthlessly, only swallowing heavily. 

A quick sniff in. "... sorry. I ... we were ... this was _good,_ I don't know why I-...." He breathes out wordlessly, exhausted with himself. He ruins _everything_ good. 

Guess he got it from his dad.

Karkat loses track of what they’re saying for a second, as the fact that there’s-- another Strider?? sinks into realization.

No, he knew that. Back when he and Dave were still just friends, Dave told him a little bit about it. Their Bro? Some deadbeat. There really wasn’t much to be said, Dave didn’t seem to remember much. He had a lot more to say about Dirk himself.

Did that guy hurt Dirk? Like… sexually? That can’t _possibly_ be right, they were still kids when Dirk adopted Dave, weren’t they?

Something cold grips in Karkat’s chest. He wishes he weren’t hearing this right now. He has too many questions that he can’t ask yet. He hopes he’s only jumping to conclusions and he’s wrong.

It doesn’t sound like he’s wrong, though.

Fuck.

“Shh… Don’t be sorry…” Dave lifts his head to press his lips between Dirk’s eyes in a long, understanding kiss. “It’s okay to be vulnerable… I’m not upset.”

A short pause, for Dave to steel his breath. He _is_ upset, but it’s not because of Dirk. He’s upset that Dirk has been dealing with this alone, for all these years. Upset that he can’t do more to help. All he can do now is be here.

Quietly, “You can tell me if you want to. I’ll never be mad at you for it. Never leave you. I’m here, it’s okay.” He thumbs over the back of Dirk’s hand, and it’s meant to be soothing, but he’s sure his hand is shaking a little. He wants to squeeze Dirk and never let go.

Dirk _cringes_ when Dave says 'vulnerable,' taking in another quick sniff. 

"... didn' want you t'know... didn' wan' anyone to-... never even... fuck, that sick shit should b-be in jail, but..." He couldn't. In the end, he never brought it up to authority. Run ragged with responsibilities, legal and not-so-legal, he never mustered up the guts to. 

If not for _his_ peace of mind, he still wishes he had done it for Dave's. 

Dirk closes his eyes, trying to find his calm. Let the warmth of lips pressed against him seep in and iron out the tremulous thoughts in him. Let the shaking of Dave's hand remind him he's the adult, _he's_ the adult; Dave really shouldn't have to handle the mess that is Dirk Strider. 

But Dave's reassurances are so so tempting. 

A deep, slow breath. It trembles. "'s too much. The.. the..." Breath whooshes out again, "strifes'n .. camerawork'n _money,_ I... it's better to just..." he shrugs a little, moving so he can be chest to chest with Dave, so he can hide his face in Dave's shoulder. 

"... no more talking now, ok, lil dude..?" It's a plea.

“Sure, Dirk…” Dave agrees. No more talking, that’s fine. As long as that’s what’s going to get Dirk to relax. To go back to sleep. “I love you…” he says, and kisses Dirk’s head again. He lets go of Dirk’s hand only to wrap around his body again. It’s going to take him a while to fall asleep at this rate, but at least Dirk is here with him. The solid body in his arms is reassurance enough that Dirk will be okay. 

It has to be.

* * *

The next day starts out as normally as it can. Dirk is more or less useless to move around on his own, so Karkat helps him get around the house. They have breakfast and do their thing, and by all means, it’s normal, but it’s…

Tense.

Dave is doing a pretty good job acting like everything is normal, but Karkat isn’t quite as good at it. His head is still buzzing with questions. What really happened to Dirk? How is Dave involved? If the other Strider isn’t in jail, where is he? If Karkat crossed a line yesterday, how many other lines has he crossed and Dirk never told him? Why hasn’t Dirk told him? Should he apologize? He should definitely apologize. But how? Will Dirk be mad that he was listening in on their conversation?

Ugh. He hates this. He almost wishes he had to go to work, just to have something to take his mind off things, but he’s got the day off.

Nothing to do but sit around and wallow in it.

Dirk is out on the couch, watching one of his foreign cartoons, cuddled up with a blanket in the corner. He hasn’t really moved since Karkat put him there.

Karkat is cautious as he enters, and the closer he gets to the couch, the more unsure he is. Where should he even sit?? Should he sit with Dirk or on the other end of the couch? A different chair? Ugh, this is stupid. He’s walking on pins and fucking needles.

Maybe he should just sit with Dirk, act like everything is normal. Because it totally is normal, he’s fine, Dirk is fine, nothing is wrong. Obviously he’s not freaking out, there’s nothing to freak out over.

He sits beside Dirk without flopping like he usually would, and leans carefully into him, shoulder to shoulder, like he would slouch on him any other time. It’s definitely casual and not tense and he’s not nervous, that’s stupid.

He gives Dirk a very normal kiss on the cheek and tries to settle more naturally into where he’s sitting. “How’s your cartoon?” he asks.

Dirk can't move. 

That's basically what the day after feels like. He can kind of slump his legs over the edge of the bed, but he's so shaky he kinda just flops down onto his back and shakes his head, waiting for either of the two others to take pity on him. 

And they do, of course. He's helped to the bathroom, given sustenance, and promptly dumped on the couch with dibs on the TV. He still feels shaky and even a little feverish, and his hole is so loose he rather asks Karkat or Dave to help him to the bathroom more often than not. 

Despite that, he feels _good._ Which is why it's very weird that the tension in their apartment is thick enough to cut. Well. no. If he thinks about it, he's not very surprised.

Dave, while a little more doting that usual, is acting like his usual casual self. Karkat? 

Karkat is walking on eggshells. It would be hilarious if it wasn't so weird. 

He's tried joking with him, teasing him, talking about how pretty he was between his legs yesterday, but it's like he's not even receiving the little jabs. He just nods agreeably and continues whatever he was doing. 

Hella suspicious. 

And here he comes again, cautious like a scolded dog. His face is so ridiculously easy to read, and he sits down daintily; he might as well have crossed his legs and put his folded hands on his knees. 

A kiss to the cheek. No insult about his dumb anime. 

Except calling it a cartoon.

"It's anime." He nudges Karkat's shoulder with a small smirk, but Karkat just takes it. 

Yeah. Karkat _definitely_ heard yesterday. Logically speaking, there is nothing that could have happened that would lead to this behaviour; not even 'fucking up' like he probably thinks he did when he called Dirk weak. 

"Out with it, Karkat." He breathes it out as a sigh, "If I need to see you walkin' around like you're a cat with tape on its paws for another day I'm gonna fly off the god damned handle. You heard me'n Dave talkin' yesterday, yeah?"

Exhausted like this, he thinks he'll be able to answer some questions.

“Uh-...” Karkat’s first instinct is to deny it, but that would be pointless. If he’s being that obvious for Dirk to even ask, denying it would probably only irritate Dirk.

After a moment, “...yeah, I did...” he admits. 

Another hard moment of silence passes where he suddenly doesn’t know what to say. He draws a blank on anything he wants to ask, wonders if maybe Dirk will just… tell him.

A sigh.

“...I don’t know what it was about, though,” he finally says. “I just, uh. Gathered that someone talked down on you enough to make you believe it. And that I… brought it up. So, sorry, about that. Um.”

He definitely has other thoughts about what he heard, but he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions. _‘He never wanted me to like it’_ echoes in his head, though, and that… that definitely sounds like sexual assault.

All the questions bubble back up, and he can’t stop himself from feeling sick that he might have said countless other things wrong over the last few months. _Why didn’t Dirk ever tell him?_

Not that this is something easy to talk about, he guesses. If something like that happened to him, would he tell Dirk?

It’s obvious on his face, the turmoil he’s feeling, even if he doesn’t know it. It simmers under the surface, threatening to boil over, but he doesn’t want to force anything. He’s worried, but he doesn’t know what would be too much, so he keeps his mouth shut, waiting to see what Dirk will say on his own.

Dirk is sure he should feel more than this; having his kismesis know one of his deepest, fucked up secrets. 

He doesn't though, he realizes with numb sincerity. While he doesn't exactly want soulful gaze-locking, the lump in his stomach is bearable. It feels far away. Maybe he'd care more if he wasn't so.... Wrung out. 

"Don't be sorry, man, you didn't know anythin' about it, did you." He shrugs easily, eyes still on the moving characters on the screen. He props his cheek onto his hand. 

"It's our dad. Bro, I mean. Biological." He can hear his voice going monotone, but that's fine too. It wasn't even that hard to say. Maybe ‘cause he doesn't expect Karkat to crumble to pieces at the news, like he might be afraid Dave would have. 

"He's a sick piece of shit, always was. You met Dave when y'all were... What, thirteen? We left when he was seven. Got myself a false ID, shit was kinda crazy for a while." Wow, he skipped a lot there didn't he. 

".... Well, there ain't too much to say on the matter, but 'm pretty sure you've connected the dots. Beat the shit outta us too, in case you're wonderin', I figured we hadta get out once Bro-..." He purses his lips, subconsciously smoothing his hand over his neck, over a familiar scar. It was messy business, the argument and the outcome both. 

".. went too far. Had already plans of leavin', but he started hintin' he wanted Dave in some vids, and..." Sick to his stomach. Cold dread spreading through his body. He probably won't ever forget the horror he felt that day. Now, it's only a lump in his throat. 

"Yeah." 

A small silence. His voice is softer when he continues, "Dave doesn't remember much. He was young, so fucking young. There's probably a couple'a things his brain just wiped out too. All the better for it."

A contemplative silence now. He's not shutting the discussion off, in case Karkat wants to ask something more. It's the most he's talked about it to anyone besides... maybe Roxy.

There are a lot of holes in Dirk’s story between _fake ID_ and _videos_ and _he beat us too._ Karkat is pretty sure he can fill them, though, and that same sick feeling settles in his gut as he does some quick math. If Dave was only seven when they ran away, Dirk was… fourteen.

_He was only fourteen and he--_

Karkat sucks in a sharp breath and grips at Dirk’s blanket where he would rather be holding his hand. The silence stretches between them for a long moment before he finally decides what to say.

“...Thank you for telling me. And… thank you for rescuing Dave.” He looks up at Dirk, ,even if Dirk’s not looking back at him. “You’re a good person, as hard as you try to make me think you’re an asshole.”

Maybe the barb borders on too much, but it feels right. Like he’s reassuring Dirk that he doesn’t think of him differently, things don’t have to change between them. He _knows_ DIrk isn’t an asshole, and that’s the point.

He tugs the blanket off Dirk enough to weasel his way inside, cuddling up to him properly and laying his head on his shoulder. He can’t necessarily say he feels _better,_ this isn’t something to feel good about, but… He’s relieved. He’s glad that Dirk is willing to talk to him, and he’s glad that Dirk isn’t mad at him for what he said.

“And, for the record,” he adds, his eyes on the television now, “I think you’re strong as hell. It takes a lot of strength to open up, the way you have. Letting me love you, like this…” He does find Dirk’s hand now, weaving their fingers together to hold it gently yet firmly. Solid. Definite. Not up for debate. 

"... I only try? Hmm.." 

Dirk takes his time in replying. Being thanked for.... rescuing Dave, it... Nobody did that. 

He wouldn't call it a thankless job, because it's probably the most selfish thing he did in his entire life, bringing him with him instead of taking him to an orphanage. But ... 

It was also most likely the hardest thing he's done in his life. And Karkat is telling him _thank you._

He makes a sound like he was just hit in the solar plexus, an almost soundless little thing. 

For a brief moment, he'd thought Karkat might... Well, he doesn't know now. That Karkat _would_ find him weak, would find it ridiculous he's not over it. That his Kismesis couldn't even let the past go. 

He brings the hand Karkat's weaved his own in with up, pressing a long kiss to his knuckles. He's not sure he can voice his appreciation, he doesn't have the words for it. He doesn't feel like crying, he's just.... calm. 

".... I love you." 

It's the closest he can get.

“Mm… I love you, too.” Karkat turns his head up to give Dirk another kiss, one that feels so much better than the tight thing he tried to greet Dirk with a few minutes ago.

There’s still one more thing though…

“...You’ll tell me, if I say something wrong again, right? Dave might not always be there to auspisticize for us, and… There’s a pretty definite line between healthy pitch fighting and… whatever it was that could have happened if he wasn’t there.”

His brows pull up with worry as he looks at Dirk again. It’s important to him to know that he can trust himself not to hurt dirk on accident. Or at least, that they can work through it if he does.

Dirk smiles a little at the kiss; yeah, that's _tons_ better. None of that weird, stiff shit. 

He hesitates a little. "... I'll... " It feels dumb though. He really shouldn't be so affected that a certain jab can have him crumbling. 

Though shit, he can't have Karkat uncertain like this either. It'll break them apart real quick. "I'll safeword it. Maybe... Like. 'Puppets' or something. So you'll know what's up?"

He dares meet Karkat's eyes, and he relaxes- he didn't even notice his shoulders were hitched up so high. God, but Karkat is simply gorgeous. 

"... how 'bout that?"

Karkat hates to laugh when they’re having such a serious conversation, but he can’t help it. A laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it and a stupid grin splits his face. “I think… if it’s supposed to be a safeword, it should be something you’re _less likely_ to actually say while we’re having sex.”

He doesn’t _get_ the whole puppet thing, but that’s beside the point. _“Puppets,”_ he says again, disbelieving, but good natured.

An exaggerated sigh.

“Okay, what about… uh…” Wow, suddenly he’s forgotten every word in both languages he knows. This shouldn’t be so hard, it’s just a word. A less sexy word than puppets.

Because puppets are too sexy. God, how did he fall in love with such a weirdo.

He glances at the TV, like it’ll give him the answer, and it sort of does. They’re eating lunch or something, and food is good, right? At least, they don’t typically talk about food while fucking.

“...Peaches?” he tries, looking to Dirk again.

Dirk has the decency to blush. Well, okay, so that wasn't the best word he could have come up with. Bit himself in the ass there. 

"..." He has to chuckle a little as well, giving Karkat's hand a little squeeze. 

"I think peaches is fine."

With the tension properly broken, Karkat grins and gives Dirk another kiss.

He nuzzles back into Dirk’s side with a sigh, focusing again on the TV. 

He implores Dirk to tell him about what’s happening on his cartoon (for the last time, it’s _anime,_ Karkat) and they settle into a comfortable afternoon of disgustingly domestic togetherness.

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for reading!
> 
> if you wanna talk to us you can find us here: [@br0jangles](https://twitter.com/br0jangles) and [@glubstuck](https://glubstuck.tumblr.com/)


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